


psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent.

by awfuloffal



Category: Monster High
Genre: Blow Jobs, Branding, Brother/Brother Incest, Burnplay, Codependency, Crossdressing, Domestic, Dry Humping, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Genderplay, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Intercrural Sex, Jealousy, Light Dom/sub, Literal Sleeping Together, M/M, Masturbation, Neck Kissing, Night Terrors, Nonbinary Character, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Resolved Sexual Tension, Secret Relationship, Self-Esteem Issues, Sharing a Bed, Under-negotiated Kink, Whump, i cannot stress the branding guys, now with art!, piercing kink, yandere lite
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 51,142
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27554353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awfuloffal/pseuds/awfuloffal
Summary: or dealing with the effects of having one body and then notHolt and Jackson are perfectly fine going about their own individual lives. They don’t have to think about the other anymore, worry about what they’re doing or who they’re with. Being their own person is nothing but freeing, both mentally and physically.Really.
Relationships: Holt Hyde/Jackson Jekyll
Comments: 107
Kudos: 122





	1. dangerous game

**Author's Note:**

> hi I’ve don’t nothing but watch monster high content for the last two weeks and I’m proud to say: jekyde best ship.
> 
> they have their own bodies in this fic and while I’d love to do something with actual body sharing in the future I just want them to fuck at the moment

When Holt used to picture his life separate from Jackson, it was always the same. He, as himself _finally,_ was free to live his life however he wanted, no longer having to worry about his nerdy normie brother. Free to party, free to DJ, free to _exist_ as his own person. Now that they _were_ separated though, through Jackson’s own brilliance reverse engineering their great grandfathers original serum, Holt finds himself thinking about Jackson more that ever. Not that he would ever admit it of course. 

The idea that Jackson would also have a life separate from him had never crossed his mind. The two rarely saw each other anymore, due to their dramatically different lifestyles, but they couldn't avoid each other at home. Holt got home late as usual, crashing down the door with no regard to his brother’s sleeping schedule. Their mom was off at work, working two jobs as her two personalities to support her kids, so Holt could get away with being a little obnoxious. He’s all riled up from a DJ gig, the pounding music still ringing in his ears, already missing the sway of the dance floor.

They still shared a room- but that was because of space limitations, not because they missed each other or anything. Certainly not because Holt had trouble sleeping too far away from Jackson because it just didn't feel right. Definitely not because sometimes Holt had nightmares, and if he got too anxious during the night all it took was opening his eyes to see that Jackson was right there safe and sound to calm him down. Because that would be nonsense- Holt wanted to be separate! Wanted to be as far from Jackson as possible! 

“Jesus Christ Holt.” Jackson says as Holt enters as loudly as he can. He’s sitting at the desk between their beds, doing homework of course. The nerd. He’s wearing thin pajamas, a striped yellow tank top and yellow boxers which Holt would rather die than admit is kinda cute. The way their desk is set up Jackson faces away from the door so Holt has a clear view of their matching yin-yang tattoo on poking out from the hem of his shirt. 

Holts secretly glad they both kept the tat after they split. Jackson could take out the eyebrow piercing that he “never liked anyway”, but tattoos are _forever._

“Sorry dude what was that?” Holt says, turning down the volume on his headphones. He didn't need them anymore of course, but old habits die hard. “You say something?”

Jackson sighs in annoyance, turning around in his chair and then Holt sees _it._

“Whoaoahh!” Holt's eyes go wide, focusing in on the dark hickey on Jackson's neck. Jackson immediately realizes his oversight and turns red, slapping a hand over it and turning back around. “No way lil’ bro- you have GOT to tell me!”

“I'm older than you!” Jackson sputters. “And it’s none of your business!” 

“Whaddya mean it's none of my business?” Holt says defensively. “It's ALL of my business!”

“It literally isn't though.” Jackson says, crouching over his desk. “Just leave it alone.”

Holt’s smile twists into a grimace. “Whatever.”

That's Jackson for you. Always such a mood killer. Holt turns to his side of the room and tries to ignore the dark feeling in his gut. It's not like it's a big deal, they shared everything- or they used too. He takes off his shirt and jacket, throwing them carelessly onto the bed before laying down on top of it. The beats from his headphones reverberated through his neck and he tried to fall asleep- but Jackson was still there in the corner of his eye. 

Holt turned over on his side. “But who did it though-”

“Holt.” Jackson said in a warning tone. “Can’t you leave it alone?”

“No.” Holt smiles. “So tell me.”

Jackson just sighed, turning back to his work.

Shot down again, Holt's eyes narrowed on the dark spot on Jackson's neck. _What's his deal?_ They’ve seen much worse of each other- or well Jackson has. He was too much of a prude to ever actually do anything on his own.

He's not getting any sleep until he figures out this mystery. Frankie-fine? No, that wasn't her style. If it was Ula D he’d be a vamp himself and Cleo wouldnt come within ten feet feet of the normie- Jackson’s always been weirdly cool with Torelai, but she was dating that gargoyle-

 _Why do you think it's a girl?_ A dark voice poisons his mind, and he can't even blame it on Jackson any more. Holt bites his tongue. He’s always suspected- Jackson has always been _weird_ \- and sharing a mind and body let him in on a lot of secrets they would both rather be kept hidden. 

So what if his brother liked guys- Holt was fine with that. As long as they weren’t sharing a body anymore Jackson was free to do whatever with whoever. But that still didn't answer his question. 

Holt turned over pictures of their male friends in his head. For some reason picturing Jackson with _them_ had a greater effect on Holt than the girls- the fire in his stomach only got stronger until Holt felt like he had to either throw up or tear something apart. Whether it was that damn Gorgon Jackson was always smiling with or Clawd or even some fucking normie- Holt has no idea. Jackson could be doing anything- any _one_.

“Who is it.” Holt says darkly. “ _Tell me.”_

“Piss off Holt.” Jackson just rolls his eyes at him. “I mean it.”

That’s the wrong answer. Holt growls low in his throat, the only warning before he tackles Jackson to the ground.

“Hey-!” Jackson yelled as he went down, landing hard on his side. “Holt what the hell are you-“ That’s as far as he gets because Holt has found his prize- that mysterious dark spot on Jackson’s neck. He latches on with his own mouth, biting down on his normie brother's neck. “Hhhh-Holt-“

Holt ignores him, instead lathering his hot tongue over the unsightly bruise on his brother's skin. Jackson shivered underneath him and Holt pressed himself closer. Jackson’s been so cold since they split, always covering himself with extra blankets and sweaters. He hadn’t said anything to Holt of course, but Holt always knew. Jackson’s body was accustomed to his heat- _their_ heat- and he was left wanting for it without Holt. So Holt takes care of him now, turning up the heat. He always runs hot, almost too hot to handle. When he licks Jackson’s neck he can hear his own saliva sizzle, steaming in the cold air of the room.

The skin of Jackson’s neck is surprisingly tasty. With monsters you never really knew what you were going to get, dead flesh, fish scales, or anything else, but normie skin seemed to be smooth with just a hint of salt. Holt pulled away for a second to admire his work before moving back in. He has Jackson’s head in his other hand, holding him in place so he couldn’t pull away. Jackson is surprising docile under Holts ministrations- he’d expected a lot more fighting back to be honest. But if Jackson was going to around flaunting his first ever hickey like this, he should expect people to think he was easy and jump on him. Holt was doing him a _favor._

The music in Holt’s headphones is inaudible under the pulse of Jackson’s blood under his skin, brought to the surface by Holts harsh sucking. Man he should have been born a vampire- he’d do a great job! Normie’s are so _interesting…_ their skin was so much more delicate, thinner than any monsters. Holt was all at once struck with the realization of just how much _danger_ Jackson was in at Monster High without him. There’s no way he stood a chance against even the weakest monster there, not when he was so weak, and when he bruised so easily. 

Holt just had to mark him up. Show the other monsters that he was protected, warn them off his property. That was totally a thing right? Werewolves have each other coats and collars and shit, so fire elementals burned the things that were theirs. 

Fuck it, he’d ask Heath or something.

When he bites down a little harder Jackson gives a weak little whimper, sinking into Holts grip. The sound sets the fire in Holts gut burning brighter, coiling up into something tight and dangerous, and Holt has to hear _more_ , more of those delicious sounds he wanted to eat up like candy-

“Holt-“ Jackson says. “Holt you’re _hurting_ me-“

Holt's eyes snap open and he backs away, pulling back between Jackson’s spread legs. His brother's face is flushed, his skewed glasses fogged over. 

And there’s a large burn mark on his neck, right where the hickey used to be. 

“Haha, oops.” Holt says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “Guess I got a little carried away.” 

Jackson prods at his neck nervously, flinching in pain when he hits his mark. “What the _fuck_ Holt?” 

“Because.” Holt shrugs. Full of confidence as always, even though it is completely unwarranted. “Now I know who gave it to you.”

Jackson blinks in utter confusion. “What the _fuck.”_

Holt stands up and walls back over to his bed, laying back down without a care in the world. “I gave you plenty times to cough it up dude.” He watches Jackson out of the corner of his eye, still sitting shocked on the ground.

Eventually Jackson shook his head. “I’m never going to understand you.” He mutters, shakily rising up to his feet. He shuffles out their shared bedroom door, keeping a careful eye on Holt the whole time. 

It’s only when the door closes softly behind him- Jackson’s never slammed a door in his life- that Holt allows himself to relax. Shimmying off his pants and crawling underneath his singular bedsheet, all while lost in his own thoughts.

 _Why had he done that_ ? He had no solid answer. Just that the idea of his mark on Jackson made so much more sense to him than someone else’s. And he didn’t _mean_ to burn him he just… lost control. 

Holt hears the shower turn on through the thin walls. Hot water in a fresh burn- that was going to hurt. _But maybe Jackson wants it to-_

Holt growled, biting the edge of his fire-proof pillow just to give his mouth something to do. Jackson was a bit of a masochist, sure, but there was something vastly different between enjoying that and enjoying his own brother holding him down and licking a burn into his skin. 

Is there? Fuck, Holt can’t think straight anymore. Jackson was probably right across the wall now, lightly pressing two or three fingers to the neck and gasping at the pain, confused at why it hurt but felt good at the same time. And Holts here, on the other side of the well, rolling his hips against his bed and trying to remember the taste of his brother's skin. 

_If they were still together none of this would be a problem_ Holt thought bitterly. He had never actually wanted to go back to sharing a body but… sometimes he missed it. Knowing where Jackson was at all times, what he was doing and who he was with. Being inside his head, literally. Now that he can’t he has to resort to other means of emotional torment. 

The water turns off and Holt closes his eyes, faking sleep. Just a few minutes more and Jackson slowly opens the door, quietly making his way to his own bed and tucking in for the night. The moonlight streaming through the windows lands perfectly on his neck and Holt feels satisfaction burning in his gut.

Their bodies may be seperate now, but they both know their minds might never be.

* * *

In the morning Holt watches Jackson pick out a stiff collared blue turtleneck to hide the bandages on his neck. It wasn’t nearly cold enough out for a sweater yet, but Jackson always seemed to be freezing. Holt could warm him up, slide behind him and hold his brother close, so close it was like they were one person again- but he doesn’t. He could also lend Jackson some of the super strength burn medicine he nicked from Heath's house ‘just in case’... but he also doesn’t. 

“You boys better not be late for school!” Momma Jekyll is in the kitchen, hurriedly making breakfast for the both of them. Holt sits down for a full course, while Jackson only takes some toast. 

“Could you _be_ any more boring?” Holt says through a mouthful of pancakes and Jackson just glares at him. 

Jackson drives the car because he doesn’t trust Holt with it- and technically Holt doesn’t have a license. 

_“We_ have a license.” Holt protests.

“It only has my name on it.” Jackson retorts. “Maybe before we could have pulled off a last minute switch, but not anymore.”

Holt pouts and goes to turn up the car radio to maximum- but pauses before he does so. “What are you going to say?” He asks. “If someone sees your neck?”

Jackson freezes. “I’ll say we got in a fight.” He says carefully.

Holt doesn’t like that answer. “Why not tell them the truth?” He shrugs.

Jackson just clenches his jaw and turns the car on, slowly pulling out onto the street.

Unluckily for him, he’s in the perfect spot for Holt to reach across the divider and press his fingers into where he just _knows_ the burn is. It’s his after all, he has a sense for that kind of thing. “You are gonna say I did it though right?” He asks again, pushing harder when Jackson doesn’t answer. “ _Right?_ ” 

Jackson puts up with it until it’s too much, hissing in pain as he pulls away. “Alright, _alright_!” He says, covering his neck with one hand. “Jesus what is with you?”

“Dunno.” Holt says honestly. He slides his headphones over his ears and drifts off, staring at the scenery as Jackson drives them both to Monster High.

* * *

Because of their different classes, Holt and Jackson barely ever ran into each other at school. They sat at different tables at lunch in the Creepateria and altogether ignored each other until late at night, when Holt would get home from whatever party or DJ gig he’s been working and Jackson was waist deep in homework. 

But today was different because everybody was a suspect. Holt had no idea who Jackson was hooking up with, and he couldn’t rest until he found out. So he snuck behind Jackson all day, even taking the step to turn his music off to not give his position away.

When Jackson talks to Frankie at her locker, Holt is right there a few doors down, listening intently.

“I like your sweater Jackson.” Frankie says, always an optimist. “Is it too cover up… you know?”

“Yeah.” Jackson laughs self consciously. Holt's grip tightened on the locker door he was hiding behind. So it _was_ Frankie! He was so wrong to write her off at first- it’s always the ones you think you can trust-

“I’m so sorry!” Frankie said earnestly. “I mean, I don’t know that miniature squid would be so slimy! It just slipped right out of my hands!”

“I told you, it’s okay Frankie.” Jackson shook his head. “You managed to get it off before it got me too bad. That sucker was pretty strong though…” 

“Aww bolts!” Frankie stamps her foot. “I’ll make it up to you, promise!” 

“I’m fine! Promise.” Jackson smiles. “In fact you can barely even see it anymore.”

“Really? Well that’s good.” Frankie sighs. The bell rings, both students looking up towards the invisible sound. “See you in Home Ick Jackson! We’re going to have the best creepamari Monster High has ever seen!”

“See you Frankie!” Jackson waved her off, turning to walk in the opposite direction. And bumped right into Holt.

“O-oh Holt!” Jackson stutters, face quickly turning red. “Uh… how much of that-“

“A squid huh?” Holt says, raising an eyebrow. Jackson tries to hide in the collar of his turtleneck. 

“It was embarrassing-“

“You got me all jealous over nothing lil’ bro!” Holt flicked him on the nose cutely. “Coulda avoided a whole lot of trouble if you just owned up to it.”

Jackson doesn’t respond, just blinks owlishly behind his thick glasses. 

“Uh hello?” Holt knocks on his forehead. “Anyone in there?”

“You were _jealous!”_ Jackson says quietly, voice full of disbelief. 

“What?” Holt laughs nervously- no, not nervously because he’s Holt Hyde and is never nervous ever. “I didn’t say that. I mean, I did but I didn’t mean it that way. Jealous _of_ you for getting some action while Holts been running dry maybe.”

“You were jealous of me, so you gave me a weird burn-slash-hickey to cover up the one you thought I had.” Jackson says, and it’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “Makes sense.”

Holt can feel his face heating up, literally. Sparks start to light from his hair as his cheeks flush a light purple. “What _exactly_ are you _in-sin-u-ate_ here lil’ bro?”

“Nothing.” Jackson shrugs. He walks right by Holt, brushing their shoulders. “See you at home.”

Holt can only huff in irritation, but Jackson’s small little smile in his memory keeps his fire roaring.

He’s too damn cute for his own good sometimes, he needs Holt to watch over him, even if he doesn’t realize it yet. They were meant to be one, and even as two they still exist together. Holt will make sure of that. 

Instead of paying attention in his classes for the rest of the day, Holt imagines running his tongue over the burn on Jackson’s neck, drumming his fingers to the beat of Jackson’s human heart. He can’t wait to try it again, as soon as possible.

They belonged to each other, always have and always will.


	2. first transformation

_There’s a test tube in his- their- hand, warm to the touch and glowing a sickly green color._

_“I don’t think- I don’t know if it’s going to work-“ Jackson stammers nervously. He’s already backing out, moving to put the serum back on the rack. Holt doesn’t let him, using his minimal control over their shared body to keep Jackson’s arm steady._

_“Don’t back out on me!” He would be screaming if he had a voice. “I want this Jackson!_ **_We_ ** _want this!”_

_“I know- I know!” Jackson says. “But Holt- it’s not like we can test it on anything, who knows what will happen-“_

_Holt is shaking in anger. “For once in your life Jackson- once!- can you not be a fucking coward!” Jackson recoils and it’s all Holt needs, grabbing full control of their arm and bringing the glowing beaker to their lips._

_The serum burns going down their throat and for a split second Holt thinks that maybe Jackson was right. The thought is dashed away quickly, replaced with white hot searing pain._

_Burning fire- no wait it's biting cold- a scream tearing from their lungs as their atoms are torn apart. Their vision is blacked out- a small mercy. The sick warped feeling of new muscles growing, bones breaking and fixing themselves- turning into two where there once was one. The pain becomes too much and he falls unconscious, hitting the ground with a sick thump._

_When Holt comes too he's laying on his side, eyelids fluttering open. Big mistake- the lights of the room pierce right through his skull. He rolls onto his back with a groan, settling the waves of nausea in his stomach. His body feels like shit, aches and pains in places he didn't even know could hurt. But he’s awake- and there’s no music playing._

_The realization jolts him awake. He’s there- he’s_ **_there!_ ** _That can only mean one thing-_

_“Jackson you_ **_genius_ ** _!” Holt laughs wildly, grabbing onto whatever he can to help himself to his feet. “You did it! You really did it!”_

_He doesn’t hear Jackson reply._

_“Jackson?” Holt turns around. Jackson’s still on the ground, lying on his back and not moving._

_Why wasn’t he moving?_

_“Eyyyy Jackson. Jackie boy.” Holt takes a few wobbly steps towards his brother. His brother- this was their first time seeing each other, wasn’t it? Not a reflection in the mirror or a picture sent to their shared phone, they were finally meeting face to face._

_His glasses are broken-_

_“Jackson?” Holt falls to his knees by his side, gently shaking Jackson’s shoulder. His head lolls lifelessly with the movement and then there’s blood, dripping from the corner of his mouth in a long steady line to the floor._

_“Jackson- JACKSON-!”_

“Holt!” 

Holt wakes up thrashing in his sheets, Jackson’s hands on his shoulders. He’s gasping for breath and his heart is beating out of his chest, torn between pushing Jackson away and pulling him in closer. Jackson doesn’t let him go, squeezing his shoulders tighter as he comes to his senses.

“Holt.” Jackson says when he’s calmed down. “You were having a nightmare.”

Holt laughs weakly. “Really? Didn’t notice.” Jackson’s thumb is rubbing soothing circles into his skin and Holt sighs at the contact, leaning forward until their foreheads touched. 

It wasn’t a nightmare as much as it was a memory. Their split had been a lot harder on Jackson than on him, his human constitution too weak to handle the trauma of literally being torn in two. 

Jackson was fine- Holt knows that, his presence right in front of him was proof enough, but in his dreams that night usually ended much, much worse. The nightmares were nothing compared to what _could_ have happened, and it all would have been his fault. Forcing them to drink the serum with no idea what would happen- he was lucky Jackson survived. That _he_ survived.

Jackson pulls away and Holt leans after him, a totally lame pout pulling at the corners of his mouth. Jackson’s skin is cool on his, like dowsing a wildfire. Jackson straightens out, stretching out his back with a groan. 

“Alright, move over.” Jackson sighs, shouldering his way into Holt’s bed. 

Holt blinks, and then breaks out into a smile. “Aw Jackie boy, you wanna cuddle? C’mere lil’ bro.” He scoots back against the wall to make room. Jackson sits down next to him, skittish as always as he slips underneath the covers.

It’s a twin, definitely not meant for two people but it fits the both of them perfectly. Jackson’s legs slip between Holts as they lie down facing each other, the face of the other all they can see in the darkness of the room.

“Just like old times, right?” Jackson says with a small smile.

“The good ol’ days.” Holt smiles back. He moves his arm, brushing Jackson’s dyed fringe out of his face and tucking it behind his ear. His brother's eyes were such a pretty shade of blue… he couldn’t bring himself to pull his hand away, keeping his thumb right by the corner of Jackson’s eye. It was nearly the same color as his skin and that realization has something blooming in his chest. 

“Was it about Halloween?” Jackson says quietly and Holt's hand stills. “Your nightmare?”

He pulls his arm back, tucking himself back underneath their shared blanket. “Yeah.” He lies quickly, averting his gaze to anywhere else. The curve of Jackson’s collarbone is safe territory, right? “Almost getting killed was pretty fucked up. But hey, it _did_ lead to one of the best parties of my career so it all evens out I say-“

“I was scared too you know.” Jackson admits in a soft voice, cutting through Holts bullshit. “And I also know you didn’t want to be there either.” 

Holt rolled his eyes. Throwing a party for the normies that were calling for his head not even a few minutes before wasn’t exactly his idea of a fun time- but he _is_ a DJ, and with great power comes great responsibility to turn up. “Eh, it wasn’t all bad. ‘Specially for _you_ , nerd.” He jostles Jackson’s shoulder playfully. “You still talk to that normie chick? Clara?”

“Clair.” It’s Jackson’s turn to roll his eyes now. “And yeah, we hang out sometimes.”

Holt makes a noncommittal noise, picking at a stray thread on his pillowcase. “Cool, cool. She’s really into you dude, congrats man.” 

“Her girlfriend DM’s for my normie friends Holt, settle down.” Jackson laughs and Holt feels his face flush in embarrassment.

“Well tell the happy couple I said hi.” He snorts. One quick yank and all the blankets are on his side, leaving Jackson exposed to the cool air. Serves him right for worrying him like that. They’ve both remained single since the split and while Holt was doing a great job tap dancing around his own reasons, Jackson’s remained a mystery.

“No fair!” Jackson whines, moving in closer to Holt for that precious heat. Jackson’s face passes so close to his that Holt swears he can feel his brother's eyelashes brush his cheek and he let’s go, letting Jackson collect all the blankets for himself. Holt doesn’t need them anyway, and he can keep Jackson warm all by himself if he’ll let him-

“You’re thinking of something.” Jackson yawns, nuzzling into Holt’s pillow. “Your eyes always glow like that when you’re thinking really hard.”

Holt's grateful the dark room covers up his quickly heating face. “My eyes glow…?”

“Yeah.” Jackson says with a quiet laugh. “Like embers. Or hot coals.” 

“I didn’t know that.” Holt chuckles. “That’s cool though, I’m like a flashlight!”

“I only notice because it happens a lot when you’re looking at me.” Jackson says softly. “And I always wonder…” He averts his eyes from Holt's own as a veil of silence falls over them. 

Holt swallows his heart in his throat. “Maybe I just like looking at you.”

Jackson scoffs. “Goodnight Holt.” He turns away, already falling asleep.

“Goodnight Jackson.” Holt says, watching his brother slip into unconsciousness. He doesn’t remember falling asleep himself but he must have at some point, lulled to bed by the gentle rhythm of Jackson’s breathing. 

* * *

Jackson was, Holt decided, the worst sleeping partner a monster could have. He’s known things with twice as many arms that were still less than half as clingy as Jackson was in his sleep. Somehow the normie ended up stealing all of his blankets _and_ the pillow, curled up at the top of the bed while Holt had his flailing legs to deal with. 

But his brother's sleeping face was adorable, holding the pillow close to his chest. Holt figured that sight alone made it worth it.

“Boys, you better be getting ready for school!” Momma Jekyll calls from downstairs. 

Holt rolls his eyes, lovingly. “Ey.” He gives Jackson’s sleeping form a push. “Wake up Jackie boy.”

“Mmm?” Jackson’s eyelids flutter open. “What time is it?”

“I dunno man, you’re the one that sets the alarm.” Holt shrugs, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Hey, why don’t we just skip?” He doesn’t want to leave their bed. Staying there all day instead, curled into each other, sharing body heat and stories. 

Jackson just blows him off, rolling right out of bed. “We can’t just _skip_ Holt, you know how easy it is to fall behind in classes.”

“I don’t actually.” Holt says with a laugh, stealing his pillow back. One of the benefits of still sharing a room; first row seats of Jackson, all the time. His nerdy normie brother moves around the room in a hurry, pulling off his sleep clothes and Holt settles back into bed, watching the show.

Five stars.

“Get dressed Holt!” Jackson throws a shirt at him, Holt catching it out of the air out of instinct alone.

“Alright, alright.” Holt rolls his eyes, pulling the shirt on over his head and stepping out of bed. Yawning loudly and stretching his cramped muscles Holt goes through his morning routine, picking some clothes off the floor and shrugging them on. Jackson’s tying his bow tie around his neck and the movement draws Holts attention to a particular patch of discolored skin right above his collar. 

Holt swallows hard. That fire in his gut starts up again, threatening to overwhelm him completely. His mark on Jackson, showed off to the world. Proof that Jackson was _his,_ his human, his brother, his _everything_ .

“You’re doing it again.” Jackson catches his gaze in the mirror. “Your eyes are going all glowy.” 

Holt clears his throat. “That’s weird.” He forces a laugh.

Not cool Holt. Keep it together.

He turns away before Jackson can see him blush, turning purple to the tips of his ears. He tugs his jacket over his shoulders, taking the step to adjust himself in his skinny jeans. 

Even with Jackson’s head start Holt is still the first one downstairs, making a plate of breakfast for himself and Jackson.

“Come on Holt, we gotta go!” Jackson tries to rush past him out the door but not before Holt grabs his arm.

“Eat a freakin’ fruit or something dude come on.” He drops Jackson’s arm, shoving a plate into his hands. “We’re not going _anywhere_ until you get some calories in you.”

“... I have a fast metabolism.” Jackson mutters.

“We have the _same_ metabolism.” Holt ribs him gently, spearing a grape on a fork. “Come on, take a bite baby.” 

Jackson blushes at his words- fuck, they _both_ blush, but he obliges and meekly opens his mouth, letting Holt press the fork past his lips. Holt can’t help but leer, eyes narrowing in on Jackson's mouth. He bites his own lip, swiping a tongue across his sharp canines. Jackson’s perfectly docile, eyelids closing as he accepts Holt's offering. Holt can't help but wonder if he would accept anything else just as easily.

_I can think of a few other things I’d like to put in that sweet mouth Jackie-_

Jackson pulls away then and their moment is over, Holt left hanging with an empty fork in his hand. He clears his throat awkwardly, tossing it onto the table with a careless motion. “See, was that so hard?”

“You are so weird.” Jackson shakes his head, heading out towards the door. “And stop _looking_ at me like that!”

“What, you want me to pluck out my eyes or something?” Holt jeers, raising his eyebrows. “I can't control it dude! And you asking me stop something completely natural all because it makes you uncomfortable is pretty-”

“Don’t you _dare_ -”

“-monsterphobic if you ask me.” 

Jackson groans in anger, Holt drowning it out with his own laughter. “You can’t play the monster card every time!”  
  


“Really? Cause it usually works out great.” He smirks, elbowing Jackson in the side. His brother only shakes his head, but he’s smiling too.

Their car isn’t anything special, not even a monster brand. Just a plain normie car for a nerdy normie, going about a normal normie life. It’s an embarrassment, showing up to school in that piece of junk. Holt wanted a _motorcycle-_ something sleek and fast with flames billowing up the sides. Added bonus of having your riding partner- some hot girl, hot dude, your brother- clinging on to your back as you drive through the city, music blaring through the night. 

Oh yeah. Holt thinks about that a lot.

But for now he's relegated to passenger seat hell forever- or at least until he gets his own license. 

“When’s it gonna be my turn to drive, Jekyll?” Holt teases, walking around the car to his side.

“Well you know Hyde, maybe if you asked nicely I’d let you.” Jackson says evenly, unlocking the car door.

“Really?” Holt perks up, giving Jackson puppy eyes over the hood.

“No.”

“Tch. Typical normie behavior.” Holt huffs, swinging the door open and shoving himself into his seat. 

Jackson sighs, endearingly. Opens his mouth to say something but closes it, instead turning the key in the ignition. Usually Holt wouldn't let him off the hook that easily, but he’s already pushed Jackson pretty far this morning so he lets it slide, this time.

The radio blares to life, as loud as Holt likes it which is to say way too loud, and Jackson flinches minutely but doesn’t move to change it. He can listen to music fine now but it still gives him headaches from time to time, especially tunes in the dreaded 4x4 time signature.

Holt turns it down for him, pretending to not see Jackson’s grateful sigh in the mirror. 

Jackson always drives carefully, even when the threat of being late is looming of their (really just his) head, and by the time they finally pull up to school Holt is doing the most by packing all their stuff together, nearly jumping out of the car and throwing Jackson’s bag at him so he can run into the building without having to dick around looking for any of his supplies.

Because he’s a _gentleman._

Now on the school premises, Holt takes a deep breath. Monster High’s Holt was a different Holt, one that was a popular, fun-loving, carefree guy. Not that he wasn’t one of those regularly, but while at school it was expected of him, and he hated to let his fans down.

Holt ran his fingers through his hair, adjusted his earphones over his ears and picked a loud track that was sure to catch everyone's attention.

Showtime.

* * *

Holt slid into his seat in Study Howl, right beside Heath.

“Oh, hey cuz.” Heath greeted him absentmindedly. He was much more focused on tossing his school supplies into the back of a hulking slime monster. “What’s up?”

“Just the usual.” Holt takes an eraser and joins him. There’s a little ‘shlurp’ sound as the eraser is swallowed up by the goop, and Holt watches as it slowly sinks down.“Hey you know, I did have a question or two for you.”

“Oh really?” That draws Heath's attention. He’s always eager to help Holt out, looking up to his older cousin immensely. 

Holt clears his throat, already regretting this. “So like, I was just wondering, we’re fire elementals yeah?”

Heath nods excitedly, igniting his hair for emphasis. “Only the hottest of the hot! What’s on your mind?”

“This is silly but- you know how werewolves have mates and shit? And they do the whole claiming thing and all blah blah whatever- do we do any shit like that?” Holt rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. Heath is one of the _last_ people he’d ever thought he’d be approaching for romance advice but- it’s not like he has anyone else to ask.

Heath looks at him in confusion. “Uh, no? Fire elementals aren’t really a pack species, cuz.”

Holt sighs, running his fingers through his fiery hair. “Ah man. It’s just lately-“ He cuts himself off, feeling his face heat up even more.

Heath latches onto his weakness like a vampire on a pale little neck though, the bastard. “Ah hell no Holtsy, you _gotta_ tell me!”

Holt breathes out through his teeth. He had to make this 1. Not creepy, 2. Not gay, 3. Not incest-coded. Which was unfortunately his whole life as of late. “I’m not giving you all the details-“

“Pleaseee dude-“

“But I’ve just. Had this _thing_ lately where I want to burn things that are, y’know, _mine_ . I would I understand if it was just things but it’s _people_. Actually just one person in specific.” 

Heath strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like you got it _bad_.” 

Holt falls forward on the table with a groan. “So this _isn’t_ some kind of weird mating instinct?”

“Fuck, it might be dude!” Heath laughs at his pain. The asshole. “I have no idea, maybe talk to a girl or something.”

“How would that help?” Holt adjusts his position to glare up at him from the table. 

“Sounds like you have _feelings_ bro. That’s girl shit.” Heath teases him, patting him roughly on the back. 

“Thanks Heath.” Holt rolls his eyes and cracks open one of his textbooks, using it as a shield from the rest of the room. “Wake me up if they call my name, alright?” 

“Got ya Holt.” Heath aims a pencil at the back of that alone monster again, fist pumping when it goes sailing through the air and deep into the guts of his classmate. “Hey but- I will ask mom and dad. If you want me to, I mean.”

Holt makes a sound of content. “You’re the best, cuz.”

Heath lights up with the compliment. “I know.”

* * *

Jackson meanwhile, isn’t doing so well.

Blood drips from his nose, spilling out around his fingers where he desperately tries to hold it back. It’s not broken- this time at least. He’d just gotten a little too comfortable existing apparently and some monsters from a higher class made sure to put him in his place.

Again.

The staff bathroom on the second floor is always abandoned, mostly because none of the staff on that floor had any need for one. Not a single organ between the ghosts and skeletons teaching classes such as Intro to Decomp, Death 101, and Graveyard Basics, so Jackson had the single stall all to himself. It’s not that he wasn’t _allowed_ to use the normal bathrooms with the rest of the monsters, more like it just wasn’t _encouraged._ With fists. 

Jackson collapses through the door, quickly locking it behind him before turning back around. His reflection in the mirror is ragged, blood dripping down his wrist and staining the hem of his sleeve. That was going to be hell to get out later.

He blots at his swollen nose with a wad of tissues, trying his best to look presentable. He was going to be fine, just late to his next class which was Study Howl anyway. He could just hole up in there for the period to gather his wits and tend to his injuries.

He looks at himself in the mirror, turning his head to check out the damage. It would be fine, thank God, just a nosebleed.

Jackson’s eyes come to rest on his neck, and on the bright red burn still starkly vibrant against his pale skin. His breath catches in his throat as his fingers ghost over the mark, trembling in the hollow of his own throat. He sees his reflection turn red, his face heating up in embarrassment, but the warmth in his cheeks is nothing compared to the memory of Holt's mouth on his neck. 

Slowly, hesitantly, Jackson presses his fingers to the mark. The pain is hot, lighting up his nerves in warning. But Jackson pushes on, till the heat becomes heady and the pain turns into pleasure.

Jackson moans softly, heat and humiliation turning in his gut. Whenever he closes his eyes he sees Holt looking at him with those eyes, a hunger there that Jackson doesn’t fully understand. He has to be wrong, there’s no way that Holt would ever think about _him_ like _that-_ but his cruel thoughts couldn’t let him forget the feeling of his brother's lips and teeth.

He presses down harder, gasping out now. “Holt…” he mumbles weakly, voice heavy with lust and shame. Just the taste of his brothers name on his lips now, while he debases himself in _public-_ still in school where anyone could walk by and hear him calling out like a whore- 

Jackson presses a trembling hand to the front of his pants, moaning out shakily as he slides to the floor. It’s not the first time he’s thought of Holt while doing _this_ and it for sure won’t be the last, but is he really going to do it here? In a school bathroom?

The thought only got him hotter. He was really that desperate for it, huh? Literally anyone could walk by- it didn’t even matter if he locked the door, he could end up on the front page of Spectra’s blog without even knowing it.

He can see the headline now. _Loser normie touches himself in the bathroom!_ It makes his cock jump to attention, arousal burning in his gut.

Jackson swallows his pride and traces his fingers lightly over his neck, like a trail of gentle kisses before biting down. He’s always had a thing for pain- you don’t get into as many fights as he has without developing one as some soft of defense mechanism- and burns were always his favorite. A prettier mark than any cut or scar, bright red against his skin like a permanent kiss. Holt had given him a few over the years, mostly accidental, but the sick thrill he got each time he felt the heat bloom across his skin was anything but.

So Jackson indulged himself, rutting into his hand while gently massaging at the sinful burn on his neck. He wouldn’t allow himself to cum, not like this. This was punishment for being such a loser, a freak, for being so out of place and having his heart set on someone so out of reach-

Jackson feels his orgasm approaching quickly and pulls his hand away, closing his legs and falling to the floor in a breathless mess. 

“Holt…” He moans pathetically, the pounding of blood in his ears drowning out anything else.

* * *

The final bell rang, releasing the students of Monster High from their classes. The hallways filled immediately, some sprightlier monsters opting to go out the windows instead. 

Jackson always got out earlier than the rest of the crowd, but whether it was due to great timing or some kind of special normie release Holt didn’t know. He didn’t care either, as long as he didn’t have to wait to scrape him up off the ground to get home in time to get whatever he needed for that night and bounce off again.

So when Holt heads into the school parking lot, waving bye to whatever group of monsters he had been hanging out with, he gives himself a moment to catch his breath. It’s _hard_ being popular, you know? Always getting invited to birthday parties that need a DJ, surprise parties that need a DJ, prom parties that need a DJ-

Okay, so maybe he’s just popular because he’s the one monster DJ that’s any good. That still counts. 

… he should really start charging or something.

It doesn’t matter though, because when Holt sees Jackson leaning against the car, typing on his iCoffin without a care in the world Holt feels his heart skip a beat.

“Hey JJ.” He keeps an even pace, not running towards him like he wants to. 

“Hey Holt.” Jackson locks his phone and puts it away, giving Holt a small smile. “How was your day?”

Holt thinks back over his failed conversation with Heath, and the boring classes that had followed. “Nothing special.” He shrugs carelessly and walks around the car to his seat.

“Oh hey Holt. I uh, was actually thinking. I mean, you can’t learn to drive without actually driving right?” Jackson stammers, hand coming up to run the back of his neck in embarrassment. “And I know you hate having to drive with me everywhere so… I could start teaching you?”

“ _Really_ ?!” Holt sings. “Oh Jackie boy, you’ve made me the _happiest_ monster in the _world_!”

Jackson laughs, music to Holt's ears. “It’s nothing special Holt, just some practice before Mr. Rotter gets you.”

Holt doesn’t hear it, already strangling Jackson into a bear hug. “Thank you thank you _thankkkk youuuu!”_

“Don’t crash my car and we’ll be fine.” Jackson says sternly, not affected by Holt crushing the air from his lungs. “Alright?”

Holt puts him on the ground, giving him puppy eyes. “I _promise_ I’m going to be the best driver this old thing’s ever _seen!_ And then I can get my own bike, a classy little thing with the high handlebars and pipes-“

“And let me guess, big flaming fire decals?” Jackson raises an eyebrow at him in amusement. 

“Uh, yeah? What’s the POINT if not to look as cool as possible?” Holt realizes that he’s still hanging into Jackson for dear life, their faces uncomfortably close. He steps back abruptly, purple flushing his features. “I mean- thanks Jekyll. I mean it.”

“No problem Hyde.” Jackson smiles. “Think fast.”

Holt barely has time to blink before something is being lobbed at his head. “ _AHHH what the-!”_ It hits him straight on and he quickly brings his hands to cover his face.

“Oh my God Holt- you were supposed to _catch_ them-“Jackson sounds mortified.

“ _WHY ARE YOU THROWING THE KEYS AT ME-“_

“I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE COOL I'M SO SORRY-“ Jackson picks the keys up off the ground and presses them into Holt's hand, swearing apologies. “It was a good throw though-“

“... yeah you got me there.” Holt sighs and unlocks the drivers side door. Since they were identical in build, being from the same body and all, Holt didn’t have to adjust any of the seats or mirrors which was great because that was the boring shit. He glumly checked himself out in the rearview, prodding the forming bruise on his forehead.

“It’s not _that_ bad, you’re just being dramatic.” Jackson huffs from the passenger seat. Where he belongs.

“Says you.” Holt grumbles back.

Instead of an angry retort like Holt expects, Jackson chuckles lightly, almost guiltily. Holt gives him a suspicious glance in the mirror, eyes widening when he sees Jackson’s hand at the crook of his neck.

“I guess we match now.” He says softly and Holt chokes on his own spit before whirling back to face the front, face on literal fire.

He floors it, sending the old car shooting out of the parking lot and onto the street with a screech of the wheels, sending up smoke in his wake.

“ _Holt-!”_

Holt kept his eyes on the road at least, not daring to look over at Jackson’s side. Distracted driving kills, and Jackson has a terrible habit of being _very_ distracting indeed. Especially when he grabs onto Holts shoulder, screaming bloody murder while Holt does what is definitely a great job swerving between cars on the road.

“Calm down baby, we’re nearly there.“

“ _Holt I’m going to kill-“_

Holt pulls into the driveway in a wicked curve, the tires screaming as they finally come to a stop. Jackson is slumped in his seat, one hand fished in Holt's shirt while he stares out the windshield like he’s seen Death itself.

Holt puts it in park. “You okay?”

“Am I alive.” Jackson manages out. 

Holt checks him out, not about to pass up the opportunity. “You’re looking fine to me.” He unbuckles his seatbelt- hey, he _was_ a responsible driver after all- and swings open the door, walking around to help Jackson out of his side. Opening the door for him like a gentleman and holding him up by the shoulder when his weak legs threaten to give out. “Whoa, man.”

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Jackson says, teeth chattering nervously. 

“Aw no way! I had a whole night planned and now you’re bailing on me? On _me?_ Come _on_!” Holt shakes him a little, looking into those blue eyes. “Not cool man.”

Jackson’s mouth falls open. “Y-you wanted to hang out? With me?” He blushes pink, realizing how desperate he sounds. “I-I mean, you don’t have to hang around here you, I know you have friends-“

Holt tilts his chin up, forcing their gazes to meet. “Who cares about ‘em?”

Jackson gapes like a fish monster out of water.“Holt, they’re your friends-“

“They’re _our_ friends. And maybe I just want some time with you all to myself, lil bro.” Holt smirks, finally releasing his grip on Jackson’s face. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily!”

The problem was, Jackson thought as he watched Holt jump up the porch’s stairs, that he didn’t want to get rid of Holt at all.

His heart fluttered like a flock of butterflies in his chest. Holt wanted to spend time with him- _him!_ The nerdy brother no one liked, no one wanted..

But Holt does.

If he stumbles over his own two feet hurrying up the lawn, he can blame it on still being winded from the car ride home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holt has a heart to heart while jackson edges himself in a bathroom stall. it doesn’t get better than this folks.
> 
> next chapter dicks come out FINALLY


	3. confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised dicks, and here they come.

The house is quiet.

Too quiet.

“Mom’s going to be at work for a few hours.” Jackson appears by Holt's side and the monster boy nearly jumps. “I’m sure she’ll be glad to see you home before midnight for once.”

“Oh ha-ha.” Holt rolls his eyes, lovingly of course. He’s a monster of the night, what can he say? Probably stems back from _only being able to exist at night time-_

“Kidding.” Jackson grins at him, bumping him lightly on the shoulder as he walks past him. Holt rubs at his shoulder in mock pain, unable to fight the matching grin on his own face.

Jackson starts heading up the stairs and Holt follows him, staying right on his tracks. “What’s the plan for tonight doctor J?” Holt stalks him up the stairways, all the way to the entryway to their room. 

Jackson has his sweater vest halfway over his head when he turns around, peering at Holt curiously through one of the arm holes. “I thought you already made plans? That’s what you said outside, at least.”

Holt cursed himself internally. Damn him and his witty one liners. He can get himself out of this- “Well yeah, but my plan was to take over your plan.” Holt watches intently as Jackson finally escapes from his ugly vest, folding it neatly before placing it on his bed. “Show me a day in the life of a normie, Jackie.”

Jackson scoffs at him, probably rolling his eyes too but Holt’s eyes are focused in on Jackson’s thin, _dextrous_ , fingers pulling his bowtie off in one fluid motion.

The blue fabric keeps Holt’s attention as Jackson plays with it almost _teasingly,_ pulling it through his fingers and wrapping it around each digit.

Holt has a lot of thoughts about those stupid bowties. 

  
Jackson’s talking about something or other but his hands are wrapping a thick blue strap across his own wrists. _tie me down holt. keep me captive, keep me safe, keep me yours._

“Holt? _Holt._ ” Jackson’s voice broke him out of it. “Are you even listening to me?”

“What?” Holt shakes his head, brain still reeling. Get it _together_ man! “No sorry, I’m wondering why we're getting naked all of a sudden. Not that I’m against it but man Jackie, warn a guy.” 

Jackson blushes a pale pink of embarrassment, which is such a shame really because red is such a good color on him. Flushed red face and with his burning red mark-

Oh, Holt wants Jackson in his jacket. Preferably with all of the above involved please. 

“‘M not getting naked.” Jackson huffs. “I need to keep my shirt clean and I need to iron it out to hang it up, plus I have another bloodstain to worry about-“

_That_ certainly catches Holt’s attention. Jackson notices his slip too, biting his lip softly. “ _Another_ bloodstain?” Holt asks, a tense smile on his face.

“Advanced Biteology got out of hand, that’s all.” Jackson lies easily. He doesn’t like lying to his brother, but it definitely is easier. “We’re running blood tests.”

The less Holt knew, the better.

Holt stares him down, his bright eyes burning right through him. “Okay.” He doesn’t believe him, and Jackson knows it.

Jackson nods, exhaling a small sigh of relief that Holt won’t push it. “I have to go get some stuff on this. Draculaura actually gave me her dad’s concoction for blood stains- I’m pretty sure it’s some sort of cleaning magic.” Jackson went on, unbuttoning his shirt as he went. He and Holt were too close- most of the time literally- to really feel awkward about being naked in front of the other. Personal space didn’t really exist when you shared a body, and it was hard to get out of the habit. 

The fabric of his shirt wasn’t exactly thick, but as soon as it was off his skin Jackson felt the cool chill of the room cut him to the bone. He couldn’t help but shiver, trying his best to hide it. 

He never realized just how _cold_ everything really was until he stopped sharing a body with a fire elemental. It was like having a jacket on all your life, and then having it ripped away from you in the dead of winter. 

Holt was never cold. In fact he seemed to be running hotter than ever now, no longer having Jackson to mellow him out letting him fully grow into his scare-itage.

_Holt. Holt’s heat. Holt’s hot mouth._

Jackson blushed at his rampant thoughts- the warmth in his face just making things worse. 

By the time his button down was fully undone, pulled off his skinny shoulders and held close to his chest so he could try to absorb some of his body heat back, Jackson was ready to pull out his heaviest winter sweater. His hand was just barely on the knob to his dresser when he’s blindsided, literally, by Holt throwing something at his head.

“Here, wear this.” 

Jackson takes a moment, t-shirt still wrapped around his head, to contemplate why he has any feelings for Holt at all.

_Because you need him, you poor freak._

Jackson sighs, pulling the shirt over his head. When he looks down at himself his eyes go wide in shock. It’s not just _any_ shirt, it’s Holt’s _favorite_ shirt: a band tee for the famous DJ duo WitchCraft Punk, signed by the robots themselves. 

“Thanks Holt.” Jackson says, pointedly not looking at the other boy. He doesn’t want his face to betray the absolute turmoil of emotions just that simple gesture is putting him through.

Jackson excuses himself, pushing out the door with his bloodstained shirt in hand headed for the bathroom down the hall. Once the door behind him latches shut he picks up the collar of the shirt and inhales deeply, ignoring the spike of guilt in his stomach.

Part of him expects it to smell like smoke, because that would be on brand right? But no, Holt’s shirt smells…. like it’s been on the floor of a teenage boys room for who knows how long. Jackson presses it to his face anyway, because this is as close as he’ll ever get to the real thing and he’s going to _take it._

* * *

Still in their shared bedroom, Holt holds his flaming face in his hands. 

_How can a normie dork possibly be so cute?_

He forced himself to his feet, patting his face down to urge it back to its natural color. 

“Yoooo Crossfade!” Holt walks over to the large glass tank overlooking his and Jackson’s- well really just Jackson’s- desk. The chameleon quirked his head in Holt's direction, his green skin fading to a vibrant red. “Bet’cha surprised to see me, huh?

Crossfade does not reply.

Holt chuckles. “Yeah, you too man.” Beside the tank is their buffet of treats and food for the reptile, usually bought in bulk because neither Holt nor Jackson could ever remember if the other had already gotten it. Crossfade notices Holt's hand reaching for the special cricket greats and his eyes focused in, reaching his crescent shaped hands into the air.

“Aww yeah little man I _know_ you love these fucking… things.” Holt holds an artfully decorated cricket out in a pair of tweezers- because, gross- and masterfully dodges Crossfade tongue when it shoots through the air. “Uh-uh! You know how we do this man! Dance with me.” He starts to beatbox, Crossfade grooving with him by moving slightly back and forth. 

He’s thrown off his by a beep coming from Jackson’s laptop, still open and abandoned on his desk. Crossfade takes advantage of his distraction by shooting his long tongue out again, this time striking true. 

“Ah- c’mon now!” Holt drops the tweezers in shock. “We were making magic, little man!”

Crossfade licks his scaly lips and turns back to green, hiding behind the foliage of his enclosure. 

“You’ve been spending too much time with Jackson.” Holt huffs. He draws away from the desk, but his attention is caught by a soft _ping,_ Jacksons laptop beeping at him again. 

Jackson’s laptop is open, the dark screen lighting up as a notification comes through to him. The little red _1_ taunts Holt and his already thin self-control. 

He _really_ shouldn’t.

But Jackson shouldn’t be leaving his laptop open either, right?

_chad: hey doc we still on 2nite?????_

Holt sneers at the screen, eyebrows furrowing in anger. Who the fuck was this? Why were they talking to Jackson? They think they have the _right_ to take Jackson away from him-

_chad: clair still haz ur dice from last sesh if u dont com shez goin 2 steal dem_

Ah. It was just Jackson’s weird role playing group with his normie friends. Holt feels his face flush in embarrassment and jealousy. The tips of his fingers are red-hot and he shakes his hands pathetically to drain the uncalled for anger. 

He really had to start getting his shit together. 

The door creaks open and Holt spins around, slamming the laptop shut. “Uh, hey!” Jackson’s wearing his shirt, looking baggy on him despite their twin bodies. It makes him seem delicate, bird boned and lanky. “That shirt looks good on you.” He chokes out awkwardly.

“Thanks.” Jackson smiles shyly. His arms are crossed across his chest, rubbing his forearms with his hands. “God, it’s so cold in here.”

Holt scoffs. “Are you kidding? I’m burnin’ up! Literally!”

Jackson shakes his head, heading toward his closet. “You’re always warm Holt, I’d be worried if you weren’t.” 

Holt rushes behind him, nearly tearing his signature red jacket off as he moves. “Well wear this, baby. Already pre-heated for ya.” He drapes the jacket over Jackson's stiff shoulders. When he looks Jackson in the eyes he doesn’t know what to expect. Disgust maybe, if his bold move was too much and his brother finally caught on. Confusion? Rejection? 

But Jackson’s face is a lovely pink color, disbelief and embarrassment covering his face. Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone else, but Holt _knows_ that face. It used to be his after all.

“... thank you Holt.” Jackson says softly, pulling the jacket tighter around himself. Holt puffs his chest out in pride at his offering accepted. 

Silence falls. Holt shifts impatiently from foot to foot while Jackson focuses on a spot just behind his head. Neither of them can remember the last time they were alone like this, just… casually hanging out.

“So!” Holt breaks the spell. “What do normies do for fun, Jackie boy?”

“Um, well… I play Dungeons and Dragons with my friends in New Salem?” Jackson seems to be thinking real hard. “Sometimes we play Pathfinder.” 

“Cool, what's that about?” Holt has no idea what kind of nerd shit Jacksons talking about. 

“Well you uh, make up a character and- Clair’s our DM- that means dungeon master- so she makes scenarios where we fight- uh… corrupt... tax corporations.” Jackson nods encouragingly.

Hey, it was a better lie than jegglingtons.

“Wow, that sounds lame as hell!” Holt claps his hands. “Let’s do it!”

“Oh it’s… not really a game for two players.” Jackson chuckles. He scratches the back of his head, screwing his eyebrows together in a way that should come with a warning because it made Holt's heart speed up dangerously. “I’ve been to a few parties-”

“You? Been to parties?” Holt raises an eyebrow in disbelief. And jealousy. The idea that Jackson would rather hang out with his normie friends then come to see his own brother perform… heat clenched around his heart, beating painfully into his chest. 

Jackson just shrugs it off. “It’s not even a _party_ really, just four or five kids getting drunk and smoking weed together.”

_You could do that at MY parties!_ Holt thinks, but even as he says it he knows it’s too far-fetched. More than half of monsters aren’t even affected by one of the other so why even bother? Holt himself couldn’t even drink alcohol, the drink burning up in his system before it even reached his stomach.

It makes for a great fire breathing truck though.

Jackson’s still going on. “There’s a lot of stupid games we play. Truth or dare, never have I ever-“

“What’s that?” Holt raises an eyebrow.

“Never have I ever? It’s when you go around the circle and you say something you’ve never done, and everyone who _has_ done it has to put down a finger. First one to put down all ten loses. Or wins. Depends on the people you're playing with I guess.”

Holt gasps in delight. “We should do that!”

“Really?” Jackson looks at him in confusion, tilting his head to the side. “I don’t think it will work with only two people.”

“Shhh shh shh. We’ll make it work.” He grabs Jackson’s outstretched hands, intertwining their fingers together as he falls to the ground, Jackson tumbling after him. 

Pulled down to the floor unceremoniously, Jackson lets out a yelp of surprise before fallinhy. “ _Okayyy…_ ” he says, adjusting his glasses with one hand. “Let’s just go to five though.”

Hands held out, palm to palm with all five fingers wiggling in the air, Holt smiles widely at his other half. “Okay, you go first!”

Jackson rolls his eyes, but he can’t hide the grin sneaking onto his face. “Alright. He laughs softly. “Uh, never have I ever... sang in public.”

“Awww man! Going for the kill already?” Holt fake pouted, tucking one finger down. 

“That’s how you play Holt.” Jackson says with a laugh.

Holt huffs. “Well never have I ever been a huge nerd!”

“Technically you used to. Half of one anyway.” Jackson says smugly.

Holt thinks it over. “... damn it.” They both put a finger down, even though it was _totally_ unfair on his end.

“This is kind of easy.” Jackson admits. “You’ve done a lot more stuff than I have. 

Holt shrugs his shoulders. “Sorta comes with the territory I guess. No one likes a reserved party boy.”

“ _I_ do.” Jackson says honestly. Holt’s face heats up to a violent violet and he ducks down to hide, staring at the floor. 

“Aw, shuddup.” He waves it off. “It’s your turn Jekyll.”

“Alright Hyde.” Jackson says warmly, endeared by his brother's rare show of modesty. “Never have I ever been wanted by the police.”

“Hey! We were _both_ wanted!” Holt shakes his fist in Jackson’s face. His cute, smug face. 

“I wasn’t the one on the poster.” Jackson defends himself.

Holt won’t stand for that. “If they wanted me, then they _needed_ you!” 

“Alright, alright. Fine.” Jackson sighs exaggeratedly as he puts a finger down, Holt following him. “I’m still winning anyway.”

Holt looks glumly at his own hand. Three fingers down already, compared to Jackson’s two. “Man this game sucks.”

“I told you.” Jackson says with a sigh. “The real point of the game is when you’re trying to dig up everyone’s secrets to humiliate them with. Cruel if you ask me.”

That gets Holt to perk up. “Now _that_ sounds fun.”

Jackson rolls his eyes.“Of course you’d be into that kind of thing. Of course.”

“My turn now right?” Holt is practically squirming in his seat. “Never have I ever been to a normie party.”

Jackson scoffs. “That’s not fair-“

“Doesn’t seem like I’m missing out on much to be honest.” Holt says teasingly. “Learning all these fun games, like ‘sit down and ask each other questions’ _.”_ He says with air quotes.

“You wanted to play!” Jackson scrunches up his nose. “What, you’d rather play seven minutes in heaven?” 

“I don’t even know what that is!” Holt throws back at him. 

“Oh I’m sure there’s a monster version of it called like, seven minutes in hell or something.” Jackson crosses his arms in defiance. “Seven sin-utes in hell.” 

“Don’t insult the monster dialect.” Holt points a finger at him threateningly. “I don’t actually _go_ to parties dude, I’m stuck behind the turntables the whole time. Maybe it’s a thing, maybe it isn’t- what kind of game is it anyway?”

Jackson’s face slowly turns pink, retreating into himself. “Well, it’s uh- two people go into a closet for seven minutes.”

Holt makes a ‘go on’ motion.

“And they do stuff.” Jackson says, face rapidly turning red.

“Do stuff.” Holt says, raising an eyebrow. “What kinda stuff? They playing hide and seek?”

“Fucking- they make out Holt!” Jackson’s voice is shrill, mortified. “Make out, touch each other- whatever they can do in seven minutes! And everybody outside listens in, and you don’t talk about it!” He spits the words out. 

Jackson’s words bounce around Holt’s mind, taunting him with wicked pictures. “... what kind of _fucking_ parties are you going to?”

“Normies are _different_ Holt.” Jackson says defensively. “We don’t have magic sound systems or haunted bands- we have to have fun with each other.” 

Holt can practically feel steam rising off of his skin. What Jackson’s implying- He’s _boiling_ inside and it’s taking everything he has to just _sit there_ . “So what?” He says through gritted teeth. “You just let yourself be tossed around like a damn _party favor-_ “

Jackson’s smile is sick, a twisted thing that doesn’t fit his face. “Maybe I like it, _Holt_. At least there I’m wanted.”

_That’s_ what tips him over the edge. “What are you even _talking_ about?” He says wildly, lips curling into a snarl. “Of course we want you, you’re one of us!” 

Jackson lets out a short bark of laughter. “I’ve _never_ been one of you! Ever since we split, half our ‘friends’ don’t even talk to me!”

Holt rolls his eyes. “You have such a fucking _victim_ _complex-_ “

“I-I have a victim complex?!” Jackson rises to his feet, looking down at him. “ _You’re_ the one that put our _fucking_ lives at risk because you couldn’t stand sharing a body with me-“

“Shut up.” Holt snaps at him as he stands across from Jackson. “That has nothing to do with this!”

“I know how you felt! You _resent_ me!” Jackson’s eyes are furious, burning holes straight through him. 

“I _need_ you!” Holt’s throat feels raw. Why was Jackson saying this- what’s he even _talking_ about, he could never hate him, he was his other half-

“This was such a stupid idea.” Jackson shakes his head. “We can’t get along Holt. We’re _opposites_ \- it’s how we were born. We don’t have _anything_ in common.”

“Don’t push me away Jackson.” Holt says darkly. When he steps forward, Jackson steps back, his legs knocking against the edge of his bed. “I won’t let you.”

“I don’t _understand_ you.” Jackson says, rubbing his forehead harshly. “You tear us apart because you want your own life, but you can’t stand that I have my own!”

“You can have your own life, I just want to be in it! And I want you in mine.” Holt reaches out for his hand but Jackson recoils from it. That simple motion sends rage coursing through Holt, sparks dancing across his skin. 

Jackson sneers at him. “Don’t patronize me. You didn’t give a shit about me three days ago.”

Holt rubs his fingers through his hair, irritated beyond belief. “Why is it so hard for you to believe I care about you?”

“Because- because of how I feel. I know you don’t feel the same, because you can’t, it’s how we work.” Jackson stares down at the ground, shoulders hunched. His voice cracks, weak and full of emotion. Holt wants to reach out for him, but he knows that will only make it worse. He can’t have Jackson pull away from him again, he just _can’t._

“You don’t know how I feel.” Holt says, his voice thick. 

Jackson meets his gaze for a second and then he’s lurching forward, grabbing him and pressing their lips together in a hard kiss. He bites Holt’s lip harshly sliding his tongue into his brother's mouth. Holt is too shocked to kiss back- in all his fantasies of this _actually happening_ he was always the one to make the first move. Jackson’s kiss is rough, not at all what he expected or even dreamed of- and holy shit is that his _tongue-_

When Jackson pulls away there’s a long line of spit connecting them, and he wipes it away roughly. “There, _that’s_ how I feel. Hate me, make fun of me, tell everybody- I don’t care. I want you so _much-_ “ His eyes are wet, face screwed up in an ugly scowl. 

He’s cut off by Holt, gripping his hips and pulling them together in an open mouthed kiss. Holt tries to pour as many as his feelings in it as he can, anything to convince Jackson that he’s wrong about himself, about them.

Jackson pulls his head away. “I don’t need your pity.” He spits at Holt. But Holt’s not going to let him go that easy,

“I’m going to take you apart.” Holt says roughly, his voice heavy with lust. “Until every piece of you remembers what it’s like to be mine.”

Jackson shivers in his grip. “S-stop it. You don’t actually _want_ me, you can’t-“ His voice hitches, betraying his feelings. 

“It’s all I think about.” Holt tells him. “Every minute of every day, I want you. Think about you. Imagine you.” Jackson turns back towards him, tears streaming down his face and Holt takes his mouth again.

“I can’t stand the _thought_ of other people touching you.” Holt says between rough kisses, surely bruising both of their lips. “I’ll _burn_ all of them.”

“No one- actually has.” Jackson pants. His hands are fisted in Holt's shirt, knuckles turning white. “I just wanted to make you jealous.” 

“It worked.” Holt stares down at him, expression unreadable. He wants to memorize Jackson’s face in this moment, nervous and flushed but full of determination.

“Watching you with girls was torture.” Jackson admits. “Never knew why I was jealous of them instead of you- until I saw you for the first time and realized what everyone was so crazy about.”

“Same here. As soon as you weren’t in my head, it was like I couldn’t stop thinking about you anyway.” His hands inch up Jackson’s sides, underneath his baggy shirt and across his pale skin. He can’t stop himself- he’s a monster of hedonism, greed and lust, of giving into your desires, and what he desires above all else is right in his arms. Holt bites Jackson’s lip, his sharp eyeteeth drawing blood. Jackson doesn’t seem to mind, moaning sweetly into his brother's mouth. The sound eggs Holt on, deepening their kiss as he slides a hands farther up Jackson’s shirt.

“Hot.” Jackson pants as he pulls away, resting his head on Holt's shoulder. “You’re so hot.”

Holt grins. “Well thank you.”

“You know that’s not what I mean, jerk.” Jackson moans as Holt's hands come down to rest on his hips. He feels like he’s _burning up_ , both inside and out. Every small touch is a match and his kiss is a wildfire. It was amazing and terrifying all at once, being in a monster's grasp. In the back of his mind Jackson’s human instincts warn him that he’s in danger, that Holt is wild and wrong- but Jackson couldn't care less _._

“I’ll stop.” Holt says, pulling his hand out from Jackson’s shirt. “I-it’s… hard to control myself around you.” 

“D-don’t.” Jackson stammers. “Don’t stop. I like it.” He admits in a quiet voice. “It’s you, a-and I like that you want to mark me. Claim me.” 

“ _Fuuuckkk,_ Jackson.” Holt moans rocking his hips against his. There’s to many layers of clothes between them, and Holt needs to take care of that as soon as possible. “That’s so hot-“

He feels Jackson’s mouth curl into a smile against his shoulder, and then a sharp pain as he bites down harshly. The pain shoots through him as he humps against brothers leg, cock aching in his jeans.

“There.” Jackson says as he finally lets go, the pain in Holt’s shoulder turning to a dull throb. “Now we match.” 

“I’m going to make sure everyone knows you belong to me, Jekyll.” Holt breathes out, part promise part warning.

Jackson kisses the side of his mouth. “There’s nothing I want more.” 

Holt kicks Jackson feet out from under him, his brother's eyes going wide as he falls backward onto the bed- of course there’s a bed he would never let Jackson fall onto the _floor_. Holt takes advantage of his surprise to grab his wrists, pinning them above his head. Jackson moans, arching his hips up against him.

Holt has… a vague idea of what he’s doing. He knows what feels good, rocking his hips ups against Jackson’s, but he’s only ever really been with girls. He needs to impress Jackson, show him that he’s better than all those damn normie guys he’s been messing around with. 

But this is so different, so much better and Holt can’t control himself. Jackson’s moans are sweet as Holt ruts against him, writhing in his grip. He’s so hard he’s _aching,_ and he can feel Jackson rubbing against him for any kind of friction.

He wonders if they’re identical down there too.

“Holt. _Holt_.” Jackson arches his back off the bed, needing to be as close to him as possible. “Let me touch you.”

“Once I’m done with you baby.” Holt kisses his neck, sucking a dark hickey into the skin there. “Been waiting for this too long.”

“Bet I’ve been waiting longer.” Jackson chuckles weakly.

Holt makes a disagreeing sound. “No way, Jekyll.”

Jackson presses soft kisses down the side of his neck. “Let me go and I’ll prove it to you, Hyde.”

“You don’t want me to actually let you go.” Holt teases him, looking down at his brother's pouting face. “You like it~” He says in a singing voice. “You said it yourself- we’re opposites. I’m the dominant one and you’re the submissive one.” 

“Is that why you’re too scared to take your pants off?” Jackson raises an eyebrow and _wow_ that expression should not be so hot on him.

Holt purses his lips. “Cocky bastard.” 

“I’ll suck your-“

“Jackson?” Both boys go still at a familiar voice, a female voice. “I’m home!”

“ _Shit_.” The brothers say simultaneously. 

Holt scrambles off the bed, Jackson right behind him. “Put on- put on a sweater or something- something with a- a high collar-“

“Oh wow, _great_ idea.” Jackson says sarcastically. “Don’t want mom to think I’ve been attacked by a goddamn vampire-“

“Oh you were _into it.”_ Holt snarls back at him. “Take my jacket off it’s too obvious-“

“Oh my _goooddd_ we are so fucked.” Jackson jumps out of the jacket, tearing Holt’s shirt off over his head as well. “Just act cool.” 

“I’m always cool.” Holt throws a shirt his way, catching Jackson by surprise and causing him to stumble. Holt puts his own jacket back on, zipping it up so the collar covers his own neck. 

“How do I look?” Jackson turns to face him, patting his hair down to look presentable. 

“Hot.” Holt nods. “What about me?”

Jackson smiles, nearly giddy. “Great. Amazing.”

“Nice.” Holt nods. He can’t resist sweeping in for one more kiss, grabbing him by the head for a simple press of the lips. 

Jackson's smile is bright as can be when Holt lets him go. “Come on.”

Two sets of feet clomp down the stairs, stumbling over each other to the kitchen where Professor Joanna Jekyll busies around.

“Hey mom.”

“Hi mom.”

Professor Jekyll turns around, her face lighting up in surprise at her two sons both being home. “Holt! It’s so good to see you so early.” She rushes forward, catching her boys in a big hug. “You can help me and your brother cook dinner for once!”

Holt side eyes Jackson. “You cook dinner?” 

Jackson huffs. “Uh, _yeah._ ” 

“That’s cute.” Holt can’t help it, teasing the normie boy is just addicting.

Prof. Jekyll let’s them go, unable to sit still for too long. Always high-strung, keeping herself busy as a bee to wear out all that nervous energy. “What are you wanting? Oh- I don’t have any time to cook, we have leftovers in the fridge-“

“Sounds great mom.” Jackson says cheerily. He elbows Holt in the stomach when he makes a face.

“Uh, yeah. Sounds great!” Holt's enthusiasm isn’t as convincing, but Joanna seems to buy it.

Professor Jekyll flits around the kitchen putting things together, Jackson handing her plates and silverware when needed. Holt feels like a third wheel, but getting to watch Jackson being confident in an environment he’s obviously used to is something he doesn’t mind.

When the first plate is put into the microwave, Momma Jekyll claps her hands. “Alright! Great work boys.”

Holt, who moved one fork, puffs up with pride.

“I’m going to get changed for work and then we’ll eat, alright?” Joanna gives them both a kiss on the forehead, rushing off upstairs. 

The boys look at each out for a long second before crashing their lips together again, falling against the counter. Holt has his hands tangled in Jackson hair, tugging gently as Jackson’s mouth falls open in a restrained moan. 

“Holt- stop-“ Jackpsn says half heartedly.

“Stop looking so fucking cute.” Holt breaths a laugh. “Being all _domestic_.” Jackson lightly tugs at the waistband of his jeans and Holt feels his cock twitch under his careful hands. “Jackie boy…” Holt trails off, licking his lips.

Heavy footsteps start down the stairs and the boys jump away from each other, clearing their throats awkwardly. Harriet Hyde walks into the dining room, having to bend down to fit through the door. “Hey boys.”

“Hey mom!”

“Ay.”

Instead of a hug, Ms. Hyde tousles their hair. Holt preens under her touch. Neither brother had a favorite mom- of course not, they loved them both- but they felt a bit closer to their respective parent.

Ms. Hyde walks over to the fridge and pulls out a Bud Fright. “How are you boys doin’?”

“Good!” Holt takes a seat at the table, drumming his fingers against the wood. 

Harriet sat across from him a moment later, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. “Just ‘good’ huh?” Jackson saves the day, swooping in and placing the nuked leftovers on the table. “Aw, thanks Jackson. You’re an angel.”

“Oh it’s nothing.” Jackson says dismissively, sliding into the seat next to Holt. The fork in Holt’s hand falls to the table when he feels what is definitely a foot trailing up his leg.

Is Jackson playing _footsie_ with him? In front of their _mom_?

“Are you okay Holt?” Jackson asks him, batting his eyes in fake sympathy. 

Holt gives him a large, fake smile. “I’m just very honored that you helped cook such a great meal for us, Jackie.”

His hand falls under the table, gripping Jackson’s thigh roughly. It only seems to encourage him, spreading his legs slightly under his touch.

Ms. Hyde sighs deeply at the end of the table. “You sure there’s nothing you boys wanna tell me? Or your other mother?” 

The brothers shake their heads in unison. 

“Alrighty then.” She knocks back the rest of her beer and spears the lump of food on her plate, taking a big bite before standing up. “I’m going to head to work- you boys… just stay safe alright? Be smart. You’re big boys now, and I trust you to make your own decisions.” 

“Bye mom!”

“Have a good night at work.”

They manage to take their hands off each other long enough to see her off, watching her drive down the road. As soon as she’s out of sight the brothers turn to each other with matching look. 

“You think she noticed?” Jackson asks.

Holt shakes his head, scoffing. “No way. We were totally cool.”

Jackson nods, convinced. 

A beat of silence passes.

“Wanna go-“

“ _Fuck_ yes.”

It’s magnetic, the attraction between them. Their mouths find each other effortlessly, pressing their bodies together until it’s impossible to tell where one ends and the other begins. 

“Upstairs?”

“Upstairs.”

Hand in hand they rush back to their bedroom. It takes a bit longer than normal, mouths pressed against each other, teeth clacking together, legs intertwined. It’s messy but that only spurs them on, stumbling together back to their bedroom. Holt kicks the door shut behind them, unwilling to take his hands off Jackson for a second. 

Jackson pulls away first, eyes glazed over with lust. His hand trails down the flat plane of Holts stomach, fingers catching in the hem of his pants. The monster boy gasps out as Jackson presses his hand against the bulge in his jeans. It’s the first direct touch between them and Holt keens at the pressure pathetically. Jackson looks at him with a smug grin and Holt huffs, a small puff of fire escaping his mouth. 

“You make some pretty embarrassing noises yourself.” Holt says defensively.

“I like it.” Jackson unzips his jacket. “I like _you_.”

Holt laughs. “Really? Couldn’t guess.” His jacket falls to the floor. “I like you too by the way.”

“Wow. I feel honored.” Jackson’s hands make quick work of Holt’s belt, tugging his pants down past his hips, taking his boxers down too. No longer restrained, his dick rises against his stomach, smearing precum across his chest. 

Jackson tucks his head down, staring in wonder at Holt’s cock. It’s blue like the rest of him, the tip of it flushed a deep purple with blood. It’s hot, literally, radiating from him like a space heater.

Holt’s face turns a similar shade. “You just gonna look at it?”

Jackson’s smug grin is all the answer he needs. He pumps slowly, too slowly, keeping Holt on edge. His own hands fist at his sides, unsure of what he should be doing. He- he doesn’t want to mess up. This wasn’t some random hook up after a DJ gig, fired up on adrenaline and the thrum of music in his veins. This is _Jackson_. Perfect and nerdy and with a lot more experience on this side of the fence than he has.

His hands come to rest on Jackson’s hips awkwardly, trying to steady his breathing as he touches him. His fingertips crawl up his sides, lifting his heavy sweater up as he does. “You’re wearing too much. Aren’t you hot?” 

“A little.” Jackson admits. “Better than being cold all the time.” 

“Hell yeah, take it _off_ baby!” Holt cheers, pulling Jackson’s shirt up and off his arms. Jackson’s chest is lightly freckled, his nipples a rosy pink against his pale skin. 

“Lie on the bed with me.” Jackson says pleadingly, taking his hand. He still can’t believe this is really happening, scared that any moment he’ll wake up and this will all be a crazy dream. Or a cruel joke gone too far.

“ _Now_ you’re speaking my language.” Holt smirks, approaching on him. Jackson sits on the bed- his bed- and Holt climbs over him, pressing him to the mattress. “You just love being under me, huh?”

“Can you blame me?” Jackson smiles softly, clasping his hands around the back of Holt’s neck. Holt’s breath caught in his throat at the view of his brother laid out on the bed, tousled hair and flushed down to his chest. 

“I, uh.” Holt stammers. “Don’t exactly know what I should be doing here.” 

“You don’t have to touch me.” Jackson says quietly. “Not if you don’t want to.”

Holt narrows his eyes. “Wha- of _course_ I do! I’ve never even seen a dick other than my own, you know.” 

“You’ve seen my dick before.” Jackson scoffs. “Back when we shared a body- I _know_ you looked, you creep.”

“Hey.” Holt says in mock offense. “That was _our_ dick. We had shared custody.”

A chuckle rises from Jackson's throat. “Right.”

Holt has another witty retort but it dies on his tongue as Jackson reaches down, popping the button on his jeans. His own erection springs free, thick with blood and desperate for release.

Come on Holt. You can do this. 

Taking a deep breath Holt reaches between them, holding both their cocks in one hand, using the other to brace himself off the bed. 

“Holt…” Jackson gasps out at the slightest touch, hiding his red face in his shoulder.

“Don’t look away now.” Holt’s bravado covers up his

own nerves. “I’m not going to touch you until I see your pretty face, baby.” 

Jackson gives in, peeking at him with those sweet blue eyes and Holt takes that as a go ahead. Jackson’s cock is nearly identical to his own, a sweet peach color against his blue. They’ve both been on edge for so long they’re leaking precum, and that makes the slide easier as Holt jerks them off together. 

“Hot. So hot.” Jackson pants. “You’re burning me _up_.” 

“In a good way, right?” Holt asks, just to make sure. Jackson nods frantically, squirming in his grip. “Hey, this is actually kinda easy.” Holt’s confidence is shooting through the roof at Jackson’s praise. “It’s just like jerking off!” 

Jackson’s shaking under him, whether from pleasure or holding back laughter he can’t tell. “Yep. You got it. Now please hurry it up before I _die_.”

Holt kisses the side of his mouth. “Alright baby, you got it.” He was also desperate for release after being worked up all day, just the slightest push would send him over the edge. Jackson wasn’t much better, his cock twitching like crazy against his own.

“Wait, Holt.” Jackson interrupts him mid-stroke, his breathing heavy. He wraps his hand against Holt’s, moving it to his hip. “I want you to burn me. Right here.”

It takes all of Holt’s self control to keep from coming right there. “Fuck- you sure?”

“Do it.” Jackson nods, squeezing their cocks together. 

Holt can feel his orgasm approaching, a burning inferno in his gut as he fucks into Jackson’s hand.

“It’s gonna hurt.” He’s already doing it, his hand heating up red hot. Jackson’s mouth falls open in a moan, back arching up against him. He loses his grip, slipping off from the mess of sweat and precum. The boys hardly even notice, rutting against each other with their cocks caught between their stomachs. 

Holt captures his brother's mouth in a messy kiss, all saliva and teeth, no finesse. There’s an orange glow radiating from Jackson’s side as Holt brands him, burning a handprint in the flesh there.

“Fuck- fuck- _fuck-_!” Jackson hisses in pain, his hips stuttering as he cums. Holt yanks his hand away and the skin there is an angry red, his hand print standing out proudly against the pale skin. It only takes a few thrusts after that to push Holt over the edge, collapsing as his arms give out from under him.

The brothers lie there, catching their breath. Holt rolls off of Jackson after a second, the normie boy wincing as he brushes against his new wound. “Watch it.”

“Shut it.” Holt sighs. “You wanted it, damn pain slut.” Jackson stiffens next to him and Holt hears the breath catch in his throat. “Oh man, you liked that? You really are a freak.” 

“Shut up. I hate you.” Jackson shoulders him weakly. 

“No you don’t~” Holt teases him. “No takesie-backsies~”

That draws a laugh. “Takesie-backsies? What are you, twelve?”

Holt presses a kiss to Jackson’s neck, right over his brand there. “We should shower.”

Jackson groans, wiping his chest clean with the sheets. “Tomorrow. I’m _exhausted_.”

“Dirty boy.” Holt presses himself closer to Jackson's side, cuddling into him. Jackson turns onto his side, face to face now. Holt can tell Jackson’s mind is running a mile a minute, his worries flashing clear across his face. 

Holt kisses him on the nose. “I feel like I’m going to pass out.”

“Me too.” Jackson laughs. “Promise you’ll still be here in the morning?”

Holt huffs, giving him a disapproving look. “Where am I gonna go? To the other bed?”

“You know what I mean.” Jackson says quietly.

“Of _course_ Jackson- man you need some self esteem.” If he didn’t get any, and Jackson didn’t get any, where’d it all go?

“You try comparing yourself to, well you, all the time.” Jackson says under his breath. 

“Keep talking like that and I’ll stop kissing you.” Holt warns him, completely serious. 

“Well I can’t have that.” Jackson sighs, a small smile appearing on his face as he nuzzles further into the pillow. His eyelids droop, fighting to keep awake.

“Go to _sleep._ ” Holt’s almost gone himself, only keeping his eyes open to see Jackson doze off.

“Alright.” He smiles wearily, his eyelids falling heavier and heavier until they didn’t open back up.

Holt wraps an arm around him, hugging his sleeping brother close to his chest. He presses a kiss to Jackson’s hairline, carefully taking off his glasses and placing them on the nightstand. Jackson fits perfectly in his arms, just like a matching puzzle piece. “I love you Jackson.” He says in a rush of breath. It’s like a weight coming off of his chest. “I need you, okay? Don’t leave me again. I can’t take it.”

Jackson sleeps easily, chest rising and falling in time with his breath, unaware of Holt’s confession. He cuddles closer into Holt, sighing in content at the warmth. The beating of Jackson’s human heart reverberates through Holt’s chest, lulling him to sleep with the knowledge that he’s safe, sleeping in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyy sorry this is so late lol 💞💞 i passed all my classes so now I have a lot more time to work on this fic!!
> 
> i FIRMLY believe that jacksons actually pretty popular with other normies & can get all the dick he wants, he just doesn’t realize it. 
> 
> ps don’t drive drunk I just needed to get a bud fright joke in there 
> 
> half of the wait was me trying to find appropriate monster puns and I just gave up. it’s a lot harder than it looks.
> 
> EDIT: I could have sword jacksons fake condition in ghouls rule was symptoms disease but it’s fucking jegglingtons??? what an idiot I love him


	4. good ‘n’ evil

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> prepare for a ton of bs medical knowledge lol 
> 
> also PLEASE DO NOT TAKE THIS AS A GUIDE FOR BRANDING/FIRE IN THE BEDROOM JESUS

_Holt bounces his leg anxiously, trying his best to keep calm in the ER waiting room. He’s been waiting long-_ too _long- and it feels as if he could explode any second now._

_After finding Jackson on the floor unresponsive and deathly pale, Holt scrambled for their phone and called the nearest monster hospital. He didn’t know any human hospitals, didn’t know the human emergency line, didn’t know the first thing about human biology. Should he move Jackson? Turn him onto his side so he won’t choke on his own blood? Or would that just make it worse? He rode in the back of the vampulance with Jackson the whole way, uncharacteristically quiet as he held his hand._

_Holt stares at a poster on the wall cheerily reminding kids to always use fangpaste for a brighter smile. He’s going to fucking snap. The doors slam open before he can and Professor Joanna Jekyll bursts in, briefcase in hand with papers trailing out behind her._

_“Mom!” Holt jumps out of the uncomfortable waiting room chair. Calling their mom on the ride over had been terrifying, unable to explain exactly what was going on other than Jackson was hurt and he needed help._

_Joanna’s brow furrows in confusion, blinking owlishly behind her horn rimmed glasses. “Holt? I thought- how are you-“_

_“Mr. Hyde?” A nurse's voice interrupts her and they both turn towards the doors leading further into the hospital. “We can bring you in now.”_

_Dawning understanding crosses Joanna's face. Holt had always hated that, how his mother could deduce everything from the smallest details. “Oh sweetie…”_

_“I’m sorry.” Holt’s voice breaks. He wanted his mother to be angry at him, blame him for this. He was supposed to protect Jackson but he was stupid and selfish and got him hurt or even worse._

_“It’s not your fault, spitfire.” Joanna says lovingly, bringing a hand up to his hot face. Holt nearly breaks then but he manages to keep the tears at bay. He still has Jackson’s broken glasses clenched tightly in his hand, the frames creaking under the pressure._

_The nurse is a chimera with a pair of delicate glasses attached to a chain resting on their lion maw and goat hooves clopping against the floor as they walk down the sterile hallway. The snake tail looks at Holt with pity._

_When they arrive at the door the nurse just stops. “The doctor is inside.”_

_“Thank you.” Joanna says, and then looks at Holt meaningfully._

_“Thank you.” He mumbles in response. Joanna takes a deep breath to steady herself and then pushes open the door. Her hands fly to her mouth immediately, gasping in horror. Holt doesn’t want to look, but he can’t stop himself._

_Jackson’s lying in a hospital bed, complete with the Jekyll, J. nametag at the foot of it. He’s hooked up to machines and a bag of blood is attached to an IV pumping into his arm._

_The doctor is a professional looking werewolf lady who stands up when they enter. “Hello, I’m Dr. O’Hair. You must be the mother.”_

_“Yes.” Joanna nods shakily, eyes filling up with tears. “Holt is my other son.” The doctor looks at him in that mysterious way, where you can’t tell if she has good news or life-wrecking news._

_“You’re the one who brought him in Holt?” She says, assessing him carefully. Holt only nods, feeling like there’s a whole casketball stuck in his throat. “You did a great job, a few more minutes and Jackson would have been in very serious trouble.”_

_“What… what happened? Is my baby alright?” Joanna sobs and Holt brings a hand to her back to comfort her._

_“Outwardly, your son is fine.” O’Hair brings out a clipboard full of papers. “Inwardly though, it’s nothing we’ve ever seen before. His cell count, blood level, bone marrow, brain activity- all are only half of what they should be.”_

_The world around Holt seems to move in slow motion._

_No._ No _._

_“It’s like he’s been torn in two.”_

* * *

  
  


Holt wakes up to an empty bed.

He wakes in a cold sweat, breathing heavily. He must’ve had another nightmare, but this time he can’t remember what it had been about- a small relief at least. Memories come flooding back slowly, of who he was, where he is, what had happened last night….

Oh yeah.

He reaches over to grab for Jackson, sleepily groping around in the sheets to pull him closer before cracking his eyes open. The bed is empty, Jackson nowhere to be seen. The sheets are still crumbled and dirty and Jackson is gone, just _gone._

His first reaction is pure panic, flooding his veins like ice. Jackson was gone- Jackson had _left him_ . He must have done something wrong, or Jackson had come to his senses and realized Holt was a lost cause, hopeless and with no future. He had fucked up, came on to strong, ruined it like he ruins _everything-_

He sits up quickly, eyes wide in fear and nearly hyperventilating- but his breath catches when he sees Jackson, perfectly fine and bandaging his hip in the mirror. 

“Oh, you finally woke up.” Jackson smiles like he hasn’t given Holt a heart attack at seven in the morning. “You slept straight through the alarm, _again._ ”

Holt stands up wordlessly before striding across the room and reaching out for Jackson. He wants to grab the boy and hug him tightly- but doesn’t know what Jackson wants. Were they going to pretend last night never happened? It would break his heart- hell it would _ruin_ him- but if it was what Jackson wanted…

“Holt?” Jackson says, voice full of concern. “Are you okay? Did you have another nightmare last night?” His hand reaches out for Holt’s, intertwining their fingers. Holt stares down at their joined hands, focusing on that one thing to calm his erratic heart. 

Holt clears his throat, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s stupid. I just woke up and you weren’t there, and I panicked. No big deal.” 

Jackson’s face softens, guilt settling deep in his bones. “Oh Holt, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to worry you, I just- well I needed to get this cleaned up and treated.” He felt like a major asshole. He had been so scared Holt would leave him during the night, only to do the same to him in return. 

Holt just grunts, pulling Jackson in close for a tight hug. “Don’t do that again, okay? I won’t forgive you so easily next time.” He’s half teasing, half deadly serious. 

“I won’t. Promise.” Jackson rests his head in the crook of Holt’s shoulder, sinking deeper into his embrace. Jackson smelled like clean soap and his favorite shampoo and Holt buried his nose in his hair. 

“You smell good.” Holt says.

“You don’t.” Jackson says back. 

Both pulling away, the brothers laid their foreheads against each other with their hands still intertwined. 

“How are you feeling?” Holt asks, eyes drifting down to the bandages on Jackson’s hip. It certainly was some heavy duty stuff. He feels a _bit_ guilty- but Jackson looked so pretty begging he couldn’t even think about turning him down. 

“Good. Hurts a little, of course, but it should heal up nice.” Jackson’s trying to downplay his sick excitement, but Holt catches on.

“Mmm. Good.” Holt bites at his nose playfully. “You really are a freak, you know that?” He cringes at his choice of worlds immediately after he says them. Sure, Jackson was fine with it last night but the circumstances had been _very_ different.

“It’s okay. I don’t mind.” Jackson says quietly. “Not when it’s you.” He looks up at Holt shyly, batting his eyelashes.

A salacious smile spreads across Holt’s face. “That’s right.” He steps even closer to Jackson, nearly between his legs. “Only me.”

Jackson pulls away blushing and turns back to his dresser. “Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to get ready for school?”

Holt groans, overexaggerated as usual. “Come _onnnn_ Jackie, we went to school yesterday! Can’t we skip today?”

“Most people go to school every day Holt. Getting a proper education is a privilege not everybody has, especially at a school as prestigious as Monster High, and to take it for granted by skipping the classes paid for by our tuition is-“ Jackson’s doing one of his lectures again. Holt rolls his eyes before pulling the normie in by his hips for a rough kiss, effectively cutting him off.

When they split Jackson runs his tongue over his bruised lips, staring at Holt with disappointment. “That’s not going to work every time you know.”

“ _Suurreee_.” Holt winks back at him. “I’m going to be downright thanked at school now that I have a way to shut you up.” 

Jackson’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, then worry. “Holt, we can’t _tell_ people.”

“Wh- why not?” Holt asks. “Are you nervous? I don’t think anyone will care-“

“Holt we’re _brothers_.” Jackson says in disbelief. “We can’t be together in public!” 

“We’re the same person!” Holt says defensively. 

Jackson runs his fingers through his messy hair anxiously. “Not anymore Holt. They could take us away from mom. They could take you away from me-“

“I would _never_ let that happen.” Holt declares, crossing his arms in an X figure over his chest. 

“Then it’s best not to let it come to that at all.” He sighs and Holt dejectedly admits that he might be right. “Besides, I don’t want your fangirls eating me alive.”

“I don’t have fangirls.” Holt scoffs. Jackson gives him a look. “I don’t! And if anyone tries to come near you, I’ll _burn_ them alive!” 

“Holt!” Jackson exclaims, but Holt can see the smile on his face. “No!”

“Holt yes.” He nods sagely. “Aight, I’m going to go shower.” He gives Jackson his best bedroom eyes. “Come with me?” 

Jackson points to his fresh bandages. 

“Okay, fair.”

Slinking away to the bathroom, Holt strips out of his dirty clothes. He had fallen asleep completely dressed, gross, with a dried coat of cum on his chest. 

Guess he wasn’t wearing those clothes today.

He turns the water to scalding and waits for it to warm up before getting in, the only way he can stand it. Fire elemental biology and water don’t exactly mix. Jackson used to take the showers for him, and the realization that showering fucking _sucks_ was one that he had to learn on his own. Even with the water as hot as it could go it felt draining, his energy wasting away every second he was wet. Steam filled the room almost immediately, a cloud so thick you could choke on it. 

Holt doesn’t have time to waste away dissociating in the shower like Jackson was so fond of. He gets in, scrubs down, and gets _out_. Even that small amount of time has him feeling sluggish, drooping down the hall as he makes his way back to their room. 

Jackson can’t help but laugh at Holt’s gloomy face. His usually flaming hair was slicked down and Holt groaned in agony before collapsing onto the bed. Jackson turns the ceiling fan on to help Holt dry off, and Holt grunts in thanks. 

From his spot on the bed Holt keeps one watchful eye on Jackson as he busies about. He’s always watching Jackson someway or another, but even now that he had (assumedly) permission to it felt better to do it in secret. 

Only he got to see Jackson in these private moments. No one else had, no one else does, and no one else can. Not while Holt has a say in it.

Jackson isn’t stupid. He’s noticed Holt’s possessiveness by now, and he doesn’t mind it at all. All he’s ever dreamed of was being _wanted._ Their father ran out on them before Jackson was five, and while they still kept communication with their in-laws it was painfully obvious that they wanted nothing to do with normie Jackson- until Holt showed up. When they split no one had been more delighted than Heath when he learned that he could hang out with Holt whenever he wanted instead of bringing lame normie Jackson along. 

Jackson still kind of despises the guy.

He hadn’t had many, or any, friends growing up due to his inability to keep schedules and frequent bouts of memory loss, he moved schools so often he rarely even had the chance to meet people, and being the only normie at Monster High was a hell of its own. After he and Holt had split, some of his classmates had raised the issue of why he should be allowed at Monster High anymore at all- but if Jackson was anything he was a stubborn son of a bitch.

(No offense to his dear mothers of course.) 

Holt was popular. Holt had the friends, the family, everything Jackson didn’t. But Holt wanted _him_. So Jackson took his obsessive nature in stride, happy to be desired. He walks over to where Holt is still moping on the bed, towel loosely hanging off his hips. 

“Come on.” He says, running his hand over the tattoo between Holt’s shoulder blades. “We have all night together Hyde.”

Holt turns to face him, grinning widely. “Oh Jackie, you know I love it when you talk like that.” Jackson grins crookedly in response, face turning red. 

“I’ll be downstairs.” He says. “Get ready before we’re late.”

Holt waves him away, turning back to the bed. “Five more minutes.”

“I will leave without you.” Jackson calls over his shoulder as he leaves.

“No you won’t~” Holt teases.

“Try me.”

Yeah he probably would.

Holt gets a few more minutes in anyway before he rolls out of bed with a groan. His usual get up was out of the question, but at least his jacket was salvageable. A pair of Jackson’s jeans fit him just right and he yanks them on, stepping into them as he brushes his teeth. 

He catches his reflection in the mirror and winks. “Hey hot stuff.” Turning his head side to side he checks out the absolute mess Jackson made of his neck, covered in purple bruises and deep bite marks. “ _Yikes_ …” 

Looks like it was collar up today then. Not that he’s complaining, they were nearly nothing compared to the ones he’s left on Jackson.

He zips his jacket to the neck and shoots finger guns at himself in the mirror before spinning around and heading back downstairs. He stops still at the entryway to the kitchen, watching Jackson busy around. 

“Oh, hi.” Jackson looks up from the counter, glasses resting high on his head. “I made breakfast.” He’s wearing a simple yellow apron tied over his clothes and Holt is nearly overcome with the urge to bend him over the counter. “We had these weird eggs- griffin I think? So I…” He gestures vaguely to the stove. 

Holt steps closer to him, wrapping his arm around Jackson’s thin waist. “You sure did now, wowza.” Jackson had made perfectly fluffy omelettes, loaded with freshly cut bell peppers and onions. “Keep it up Jackie and I might get used to all this domestic stuff.” 

Jackson just blushed, batting Holt’s hand away so he could focus on his cooking. “Go sit at the table.” He waved a hand in Holt’s direction, keeping his red face down.

Holt followed directions for once, sitting at their tiny ramshackle table while he watched Jackson cook. The omelettes are flipped and only when they are perfectly cooked does Jackson switch them to plates and carry them over. “Here you go.”

“Thank you baby.” Holt says, rising from his seat to kiss Jackson on the cheek before taking his plate. Jackson's blush only deepened, sitting down across from him as he cut into his own breakfast. It’s delicious, because of course it is. Even if it wasn’t Holt would gladly eat it anyway, because Jackson made it for him. He’d eat dirt if Jackson served it up with a smile on his face. Or even his gross normie tofu or cauliflower. “Man if I knew jerking you off was the secret to a great breakfast I would have gone at it a lot earlier.” 

“You are the _worst_.” Jackson groans, hiding his face with his hand. Holt grins back at him, kicking at his feet under the table. 

“You know, you make a cute little housewife, Jackson.” Holt is only joking but Jackson chokes on his food, stammering as his face turns scarlet. 

“Shut up Holt.”

“Is that what this is about?” Holt’s face lights up with glee. “Babydoll I know it’s a bit too soon for marriage but if that’s what you want-“

“I’m just trying to take care of you, alright?!” Jackson’s pouting, trying to look angry to cover his embarrassment. “One of us needs to.” 

The weak insult slides right off of him. “Thank you Jackie. You’re so good to me.” 

Jackson only huffs. “Eat your breakfast.” His face is still red and Holt knows he’s not just going to let this die, because pushing Jackson’s buttons is just so much fun, but he’ll let it rest for now. He smiles cheerfully through his meal, playing loose footsie with Jackson the entire time. When their plates are cleared Jackson takes it upon himself to clean up, pointedly ignoring the knowing look Holt shot at him. 

Not one to be ignored Holt stands up anyway, sneaking behind him for a hug. Never completely innocent, Holt presses light kisses to the back of his neck. “You gonna let me drive today sweetheart?” He says seductively, relishing the way Jackson shivered in his grasp.

“Absolutely not.” 

“Oh come _onnnn.”_

“You nearly killed us Holt! You don’t even know which side of the road you drive on!”

“The one with less cars on it, obviously.”

“Oh my god we actually could have died-“

Holt sighs loudly, peeling himself off of Jackson’s back. “ _Finneeee_ …. for now.”

Jackson brandishes a fork in his direction threateningly. “Forever, at least until you pick up a damn drivers manual. Borrow the one from Frankie, or even Draculaura, or else you’re never getting behind the wheel again.”

Holt pouts. “You’re hurtin’ my _feelings_ Jackie.”

“If we got in an accident you’d be hurting a lot more than just your _feelings_.”

Holt slinks away, sufficiently shut down- for now. He’s slipping on his sneakers ready to head out the door when Jackson shoves something roughly into his chest, nearly knocking him over. 

Jackson refuses to face him, his face as red as Holt’s own hair as he holds out a small medium sized bag, cool to the touch. “I made you lunch.”

It’s a lunch box. Holt didn’t even know they owned a lunch box.

_I love this boy so fucking much._ Holt thinks. He wouldn’t voice it outloud, not yet, because he didn’t want to scare Jackson off. This thing between them was too new, still developing and entwined with their unhealthy codependency and teenage lust. Holt knew how he felt, now and forever, but Jackson might be still coming to terms with it. Normies usually didn’t take well to the whole ‘mate for life’ thing that was so common with monsters.

“You made me lunch.” Holt says, voice filled with a soft kind of wonder as he took the bag from Jackson’s hands. “You know-“

“Don’t you dare-“

“That’s something a wife would do Jackie~”

Jackson sighs with a pinched expression. “I should have gotten rid of you when I had the chance.” 

“Want me to burn a ring around your finger?” Holt teases him. 

Jackson considers it for a split second. Just a second, but Holt can tell. “No.”

Holt laughs, but his smile slips when he notices Jackson isn’t holding a bag of his own. “What about you, where’s your lunch?”

“Oh I uh, don’t eat at school.” Jackson runs the back of his neck guiltily. 

“Why not?” The smile on Holt’s face is fake, plastered on only to keep Jackson at ease. When he thought about it he realized he couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Jackson eating lunch, or in the creepateria at all.

“Not a fan of the monster food.” Jackson laughs, but it’s as fake as Holt’s smile. “I usually just stay in the liescary.”

“You’ll sit with me today then.” Holt declares, leaving no room for debate.

Jackson’s face goes pale. “I don’t think that’s a good idea-“

“Too bad.” Holt bares his teeth in warning. “Sit with me, Jekyll.”

Jackson sighs in defeat. “Alright. Fine.”

“Good!” Holt is back to his cheery self, planting a smooch on Jackson’s cheek before jumping out the door. “Come on Jackie, don’t wanna be late!”

“I don’t understand him.” Jackson says to himself. “Really, I don’t.”

But he jogs after him anyways, because he has the keys.

Jackson drives slower than slime and it’s only made worse because now Holt has no reservations about molesting him across the divider. 

“ _Holt,_ I’m _serious_ -“ Jackson says, gritting his teeth as Holt rubs hot hands over his thigh. “I will turn this car around-“

“Or you could just pull over.” Holt says lustily. “I’m sure the backseats big enough for two~”

Jackson only tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Stop trying to distract me, we are going to school and that is _it!”_

“ _Fineeee_.” Holt groans, crossing his arms and falling back into his seat. “But you just talked your way out of some good road head, Jekyll.”

Jackson just rolls his eyes with a sign. He parks with a careful precision, far away from all the other cars. He wasn’t in the mood to get torn open over a door ding today. He notices Holt in the passenger's seat, bouncing his leg anxiously. “Are you okay?”

“Okay I _know_ we can’t do anything in public but can we just like make out in the car for a few minutes? Just to get me through the day.” Holt begs. “Please Jackie, I’m like an addict! You can’t just cut me off like this!”

Jackson laughs at his misery. The asshole. But he leans over to give Holt a small kiss before opening the door. Though some tongue next time wouldn’t hurt. 

“Tonight, okay?” He holds Holt’s hand in a tight squeeze. “I’ll be all yours.” 

“See you at lunch!” Holt blows him a kiss as he walks off with the underlying threat of _I’d better see you._ Jackson just waves.

* * *

Classes are so _boring._ They always were, but they are even more now that he knows what he could be doing with Jackson. Or just doing Jackson in general.

He spends his History class just doodling hearts and debating with himself on whether Jackson Hyde or Holt Jekyll were better. 

Ha, as if that was even a question. Obviously Jackson was going to take his name.

Lunch couldn’t seem to come fast enough, and by the time he was pulling the (flame printed!!) lunchbox out of his locker he was skipping down to the creepateria to save a spot for him and Jackson.

Heath’s already there sitting with Clawd, trays with what looks to be jellified eyeballs on the table. Holt slides onto the bench right across from them. “Hel- _lo_ my friends! Isn’t today just _wonderful_?” 

“Someone seems… happier than usual.” Clawd remarks. “Are you gonna tell us what’s up or-“

At that moment Holt sees Jackson enter the creepateria, shoulders hunched nervously to draw less attention. Holt isn’t having any of that.

“Jackson! JJ! Jackie! Jekyll!” Holt nearly falls out of his seat trying to get his brother's attention. It works, and a red faced Jackson hurries over his way. Holt pats the space next to him invitingly. “Right here Jackie. Jekie. Jackie Jekie.”

“Hey, why’s the normie sitting with us?” Heath pretends to whisper, making sure Jackson can overhear. Holt grabs Jackson’s arm, pulling him down roughly onto the bench.

“Because I want him to, that’s why.” He wraps an arm around Jackson’s waist, pulling him as close as possible. That was a normal brother thing right? Jackson flinches slightly under his touch and Holt realizes that he’s putting direct pressure on the burn mark on Jackson’s hip. He doesn’t let go though, and the memory of it has him pressing harder. 

Heath makes a smart decision for once in his life and steps down.

Clawd eyes his lunchbox in suspicion. “You brought a lunch? … Why?”

Holt smiles widely at that. “My wife made it!”

“Oh my fucking god.” Jackson mumbles under his breath. Holt presses a thumb into his side to shut him up.

“Wife?” Heath asks, mouth full of goop. “Oh, you mean that girl you were telling me about?”

“What girl?” Holt scoffs, trying to enjoy his lunch. Unzipping a tote is hard with only one hand but his other is too busy rubbing circles into Jackson’s hip.

Heath rolls his eyes in exaggeration. “You know, the one you were talking about yesterday? That had you all _‘oooo_ I want to burn you up with my _loveee’_ ”

Jackson breaks out into laughter at that, collapsing into Holts side. “You told- you told fucking _Heath-“_

“Hey!” Holt snaps at him. “It was a moment of emotional crisis!” 

“You’re so _dumb_ -“

“Hey!” Their beautiful lovers moment is ruined by a low grunt and a large shadow lumbering over them. “Move it _normie_ , you’re in my seat.”

Jackson balks at Manny Taur’s presence, going deathly still in Holt’s grip. The only reason Holt doesn’t react right away is because he’s considering whether to set the bull on fire or honoring his father by cutting his damn head off.

“Calm down Manny, he’s practically in Holt’s lap anyway.” Clawd says, breaking the tension.

Manny just snorts and forces his way into the table, shoving Jackson even closer to Holt’s chest. He really _is_ in Holt’s lap now, legs dangling over his own. 

“So Holt.” Heath points a fork in his direction. “Your girlfriend- wife, whatever… is she hot?”

“Of course!” Holt grins. Even if he wasn’t allowed to show off Jackson, he could still talk him up. He finally manages to get the tote open, popping the lid and eagerly looking at the contents. “Whoahhh are these… aw hell yeah, red hot phoenix wings!”

There’s a groan of jealousy around the table. “Man you’re lucky Holt.” Clawd says. “I wish Draculaura could pack me lunches…”

“Maybe you could do one for her?” Jackson pipes up, drawing everyone’s attention. “There’s usually good deals on fruits and vegetables down at the spookermarket.”

Clawd lights up. “You know, that’s a great idea Jackson! Draculaura’s been telling me about how she wants to try this vegetable lasagna stuff- I could totally make it for our next date!”

“Happy to help.” Jackson says with a small grin. 

Holt hides a smile in Jackson’s shoulder. “Thanks for the lunch by the way.” He whispers.

“They were on sale.” Jackson whispers back, elbowing him lightly in the stomach.

“So Holt.” Heath interrupts them and they pull apart reluctantly. “Is your girlfriend going to be at the party tonight?”

“What party?” Holt scoffs.

“Uh, the one you’re DJing? Obviously!” Heath rolls his eyes. “Don’t act like you forgot.”

Holt sucks a breath in through his teeth.

“You _forgot?_ !” Heath exclaims, pounding his fists on the table. “Holt we’ve been planning this for _weeks!_ ” 

“Uh, something came up.” Holt’s always been a bad liar and the desolate look on everyone’s faces makes it even worse. “I’m really sorry guys…”

“Oh that thing? I already took care of it.” Jackson is a _much_ better liar than Holt is apparently. “I knew you’d forget about your party so I got it done yesterday.”

The table erupts into cheers, elated at getting their DJ back.

“Are you sure?” Holt asks him. “Not that I’m not very grateful about you doing whatever the thing was, but I would want to work on it with you-“

“Holt. Go to the party.” Jackson says flatly. 

“Alright princess.” Holt says dramatically to his friends. Leaning in closer he whispers into Jackson's ear. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better.” Jackson whispers back. “And don’t call me princess.”

“Is wife better?”

“Hey, what are you two whispering about?” Heath interrupts, flicking some jelly goo in their direction. 

“Brother stuff.”

“Lame.” Heath makes a face. “Holt if you don't start eating your lunch I’ll eat it for you, and steal your girlfriend too.”

Holt grins at him. “You have no chance buddy.”

“I don’t know.” Heath puffs himself up, smiling proudly. “I’m a pretty good catch if I do say so myself. If I was a girl I’d be _allll_ over me.”

Jackson gives a single chuckle against Holt’s neck. “Holt’s right.”

“Of course I am!”

“What, you know her?” Heath asks, eyes wide. 

Jackson makes a noncommittal noise. “I guess you could say that.”

“Well tell us!” Heath bangs his fists on the table, leaning in as close as possible. “It’s not like Holt to keep quiet about things like this.”

Holt sighs deeply, exaggeratedly. “Yeah, _I_ wanna go public but…” Jackson elbows him on the stomach a little harsher than necessary. “... there are some issues.”

“Is she ugly? It’s okay if she’s ugly dude.”

“Shut up Heath.”

The rest of their lunch persons passes in peace, Holt urging Jackson to eat some of his lunch while Jackson just focuses on not getting crushed between his brother and Manny. When the bell screeches their release he’s the first to jump up out of his seat, hurrying to the exit.

Holt can’t have _that_.

He stalks after Jackson through the halls, hands shoved deep in his pockets just daring anybody to come close. If Jackson knows he’s following he doesn’t show it, or he’s just ignoring him really well.

Holt hates it.

He waits until they enter a hallway that is mostly clear before making his move, picking up Jackson in one smooth motion and forcing them both into a nearby janitors closet. He keeps hand clamped over Jackson’s mouth to prevent him from calling out and he locks the door behind them.

“Holt what the _hell-_ “

“Come to the party with me tonight.”

“... okay.”

“I’ll make it- wait really?”

Jackson blushes, stammering. “I-I mean sure. I know your music is really important to you a-and what kind of… _whatever_ we are would I be if I didn’t support you?” 

_I love you so much._

It was getting harder and harder to hold back.

He _has_ to kiss Jackson then to keep himself from blurting the words out then because he’s _not_ going to have his confession take place in a damn janitor's closet.

Jackson kisses him back deeply, moaning quietly as his fingers grab at Holt and pull him closer. It takes too much willpower to pull away but it leaves him red-faced and panting for more. 

“ _Holt_.” Jackson says in warning. Or in pleasure. Is there a difference with Holt? The feeling of his hot mouth gets him mixed up on the two.

“You know…” Holt backs Jackson up against a rack of cleaning supplies. “We’re in a closet.”

Jackson’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “... Astute observation.”

Holt only presses closer, running his warm hands across Jackson’s stomach. “This is how you play your normie game right?”

Jackson’s breath catches in his throat. “Nnn-not in school…” 

“Just seven minutes baby.”

“We only have a five minute passing period.”

Holt presses his hips into Jackson’s, his growing erection begging to be let free. “What, you’re just gonna leave me like this?”

“Yes.”

Holt deflates because he knows there’s no chance of convincing Jackson to stay and play hooky with him. “You’re actually going to go to the party though?”

Jackson’s smile is sweet enough to make up for him leaving. “If you want me too.”

Holt takes Jackson’s hand in his, bringing it to his mouth and kissing his knuckles. “Nothing I’d want more.” 

“Then of course.” Jackson gives him one last kiss before he leaves, leaving Holt smiling like a dope all alone in a closet. 

* * *

“What am I supposed to do at a monster party?” Jackson asks him nervously, rifling through his closet. “Do they like…. What can I expect?”

Holt’s behind him in an instant, wrapping his arms around that slim waist. “Well, don’t wear your nerd clothes.”

“Hey…” Jackson whines, but he relaxes back into his arms.

Holt only bites at his ear affectionately. “I just like seeing you in my clothes.” 

“I guess I should try to fit in.” He sighs, taking Holt’s hands in his own. Holt purrs at the contact, nuzzling into the crook of Jackson’s shoulder.

“It’s more of a warning everybody else off thing.” Holt laughs, breathing hot air over his brother's neck. “Come on, Deuce is driving us.”

“Did you tell them I’m coming?” Jackson looks back at him over his shoulder, one eyebrow raised.

Holt sucks air through his teeth.

“ _Holt_.”

“I got too excited!” Holt pulls away, folding his hands together to beg for forgiveness. “I’m sure they don't care and if they do then I’ll leave, fuck ‘em!”

Jackson sighs quietly and it only adds to the growing ball of guilt forever gnawing at Holt’s stomach. “Okay, give me one of your shirts.”

Holt doesn’t own anything that says _‘PROPERTY OF HOLT HYDE DO NOT TOUCH’_ so he just slides his coat over Jackson’s shoulders, fisting his hands in the collar to pull Jackson in for another kiss. He wasn’t lying earlier, he’s starting to think he really _is_ getting addicted. Every time their lips touch a jolt shoots through him and for a split second they’re not separate, just one body pulsing with pleasure and emotion. It might be placebo or it might be real, but in that moment they are a single being again.

And dammit they _miss_ _it_. Two bodies made seeing each other, _touching_ each other possible- but they were never going to be together, truly _together_ ever again. So they press their hungry mouths together to try and remember what it was like if only for a second. 

Holt would die happy with Jackson’s lips on his but he does have to pull away when a loud honk interrupts them, a cars headlights flooding the room through the window. 

“Looks like it’s time to go.” Jackson sighs. His face is flushed, his lips swollen and glasses slightly askew. Wearing Holt’s jacket it paints an obvious picture of why they’ve been doing- but Holt’s not going to say anything.

“One more.” He takes Jackson’s mouth again, biting down on his lower lip teasingly.

“Play nice Holt.” Jackson warns him. “I’m all yours, remember?”

He knows just how to make Holt go weak in the knees. “That’s right baby.”Jackson smiles brightly and takes his hand, intertwining their fingers as they leave.

Deuce’s car is much cooler than Jackson’s, sleek and dark with music blaring into the night. Holt senses Jackson’s hesitation and gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. Jackson gave a weak smile in return. 

The backseat door swings open and it’s Heath on the other side, of course. “Yo-ho-ho Holt! … dude why’d you bring the normie?”

Holt’s grip on Jackson’s hand tightens severely, to the point where Jackson winces. “He’s coming with me.”

The mansters in the car all share a look. Gil is in the passenger's seat, Clawd and Heath in the back. There’s only one seat left open for the two boys, but things like that don’t matter to him.

“That’s great dude!” Deuce says, the only one to look happy about the situation. “Glad to see you getting out more man!”

Jackson just nods, trying to pull away from Holt’s grip, but Holt doesn’t let go.

“Yeah, great for you Jackson.” Heath says unconvincingly. “But we only have enough room for five people-“

“Jackson will sit on my lap.” Heath declares, elbowing his way into the car. “Come on.”

Jackson considers heading back inside for a second, but he did promise Holt that he would go. So he swallows his pride and climbs in, grumbling all the way. Holt glares at anyone who dares to give them a second glance, and Deuce drives away into the night. 

Jackson has one hand on the oh-shit handle and the other clenched in his lap. He was humiliated, sitting on his brother's lap and stuck in a car with people that didn’t like him and one of his only friends. Holt’s hands were wrapped around his waist for “safety”, his fingers skimming around his stomach and thighs. Not enough to draw any attention, but enough to have Jackson’s breath catch.

_Two can play at this game._ Jackson thinks vehemently.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Jackson started shifting on Holt’s lap. Nothing close to grinding yet, but enough to catch Holt’s attention.

“You two have been real close lately, huh?” Heath asks them, his eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Well, we used to be even closer!” Holt jokes, trying to hide just how tense he was. Jackson’s movement on his lap was driving him _crazy_ , what was he thinking teasing him in front of all these people? His cock hardens quickly, thickening with blood and pressing into his brother's ass. He can _see_ Jackson’s smug smile and it infuriates and arouses him in equal measure.

“I just mean… never mind.”

Satisfied at his cousin's retreat, Holt goes back to the sweet thing on his lap. “What happened to not in front of people?” He whispers, nearly inaudible under the hustle inside the car. 

“You started it.” Jackson pouts, batting his eyelashes coyly. Holt wants to take his protruding lip and suck on it. Jackson’s grinding down on him now, slow circles of his hips that have the blood rushing from Holt’s brain.

His hands claw down Jackson’s sides, the effort in holding back making him shake with desperation. “I’ll fuck you right here.” He rasps into Jackson’s ear. “In front of everyone in this car.”

They hadn’t talked about… you know going _all the way_ yet, but the way Jackson shudders in his lap is all the answer he needs. It only gets Holt more excited, rutting against Jackson as subtly as he can.

He wanted to be inside Jackson again. 

“No you won’t.” Jackson looks back at him, his eyes half lidded and glazed over with lust. “You would never let anyone else see me.” 

A smirk spread across his face, all sharp teeth. Jackson enjoyed their little game too, then. “You’re right.” He admits. “I’ll keep you locked up forever, just for me-“

“Okay _what_ are you two whispering about?!” Heath demanded, pushing into their personal space. “Seriously, it’s like you're in your own world!”

“I’m just telling Jackson how to behave.” Holt says cheerily. “This is his first monster party after all.”

Gil mumbles something in the front, made obvious by the bubbles rising in his helmet bowl thing. Holt frowns- but then he catches Deuces gaze in the rear view mirror. 

Or at least he thinks he does. He hates those damn glasses, you can never tell where he’s really looking. But it looks like his eyes are right on Jackson and Holt won’t stand for that. He meets Deuces (possible) gaze in the mirror challengingly as he slides a hand up the back of Jackson’s shirt, raising the hem just enough to show off _his_ handprint, burned into Jackson’s skin. 

Deuces eyes flick away.

* * *

The actual party is fine, Holt guesses. He doesn’t know who or what it’s for exactly, but everyone seems to be having fun. Bodies writhe against each other on the dance floor, like puppets controlled by him and his music. It’s a power trip and a half, always is. 

He’s glad he gave Jackson his coat. It makes him easy to pick out amongst the crowd, the bright red fabric a beacon attracting Holt’s attention. The push and pull of the discs and needles is instinctual to him by now, leaving him free to focus on his prey- property- uh, Jackson.

It makes his heart _soar_ to see him having fun. He doesn’t dance, and mostly hangs around the edges of the group, but there’s a few people he does talk to and the smile on his face is bright enough that Holt can see it from his stage.   
  


His own smile slips a bit when he sees his Jackson’s attention is focused on that damn gorgon. He might have to actually teach him a lesson about playing with other peoples toys.

The thrill of the party, the music in his veins, and Jackson in his sights all reach a boiling point. It’s late in the night by now, everyone is tired and the place is dark enough- no one would notice if their DJ slipped away for a bit.

He blends into the crowd easily but moves through it like it’s water, used to the ebb and flow of bodies caught up in the music. Jackson sticks out like a sore thumb despite his best efforts to fit in, but that just makes it all the more easier for Holt to steal him away from the crowd. 

There’s a brief flash of fear on his brother's face, but it quickly fades away to confusion when he realizes just who has grabbed him “Holt? What are you-“

“ _Shhhhh_ , baby.” Holt tells him, licking his lips in anticipation. “We don’t want people to know, right?”

Jackson huffs, annoyed at having his own words thrown back at him. But he takes Holt’s hand, letting him lead the way.

Holt has no idea where he’s going, but he’s done this before. All of these parties are generally the same, after getting tired of doing what he was invited to he’d pick up some pretty thing to frisk away, There’s always a dark bedroom, a locked closet, hell even a _kitchen_ one time. His stomach rolls in shame at the memories, and he shakes his head vigorously to forget them. This was Jackson and he- well he deserves a lot better than this.

But Holt is hot blooded and ready to go, so he’ll push the guilt down like he always does. 

The first door opens to a bedroom, but Holt just presses Jackson up against the wall. They don’t need to speak, hands caught between their bodies as they wrestle with the confines of their clothes. Their hungry mouths can’t bear to part for more than seconds at a time, gasps and moans weaving together into a sinful harmony. 

Holt needs his hands all over Jackson immediately. People had touched him in the crowd, whether by accident or on purpose, and Holt needed to get rid of their _taint_ on his brother. One of his hands went everywhere, unable to stay in one place for long. Teasing his chest, gripping his waist, or grabbing his ass. Holt can decide what part of him he wants to worship first. 

His other hand stays firm on Jackson’s hip, his mark there radiating heat as if sensing his presence. 

Jackson’s the first to pull away. “Let me… let me take care of you Holt.” He’s breathing heavily, eyes dark and glittering with excitement. Holt couldn’t possibly say no to that face.

Jackson jumps him again at his approval, sliding his tongue into the monster boy's mouth to distract him as he switches their positions. Holt liked to kiss hard and deep, bruising both of their lips and stealing their breath away. Jackson liked it fast and messy, like he’s going to die and Holt’s mouth is the antidote. 

Holt pauses for a moment when he feels _his_ back hit the wall but Jackson quickly fixes that, capturing his mouth again. “I just feel like… you’ve done a lot for me, and I haven’t done much at all…”

Guilt gnaws at Holt’s entire being. If anything _Jackson_ was the one that kept putting out for him, cooking for him and coming to parties he didn’t want to all because Holt fucked up. What had Holt even done? Touched his dick?

“I know you always tried to take care of me before, and I was too stubborn to be grateful.”

_I was an asshole to you._ Holt thinks. _I got us arrested._

“You’re incredible Holt.”

Holt takes in shallow breaths as Jackson kisses at his jaw. Self loathing and arousal are at war in his mind and body, and whichever wins could potentially ruin his budding relationship with Jackson. 

It doesn’t take Jackson long to find his belt, hands ghosting over the bulge in his jeans. “Jackson- Jackson _please-“_

“I like you like this.” Jackson breathes in his ear. “Desperate is a good look on you.” His voice is full of affection. It makes Holt’s heart beat faster and he makes pathetic noises as Jackson teases him, refusing to give him what he needs. 

When Jackson finally takes his zipper in hand it feels like an eternity passes before it's open and his aching cock is finally released into the cool air. “ _Jackson-“_

“You’ve wanted this all day, haven’t you?” Jackson’s voice is amused, refusing to take Holt’s cock in hand yet. “I need to start taking better care of you.”

“Jackson _please_ , I need it, please touch me…” Holt feels as if he could cum at any moment with Jackson’s sweet voice in his ear but he craves his brother's touch more than anything. 

Jackson presses a kiss to his cheek and takes his cock in hand, pumping him slowly. “I got you.”

Holt nearly comes apart, shuddering under Jackson’s hands. His mind was racing, thoughts of _hey shouldn’t this be the other way around-_ echoing in his mind. He was supposed to be the one taking charge, this was his idea after all-

But Jackson’s adoring voice and his teasing hands left him all shaken up. All he could do was brace himself against the wall and let Jackson take him apart. 

“You did really good today Holt.” Jackson whispers, the only sound in the room aside from Holt’s erratic breathing and the slick slide of his hand. “I know it was hard keeping your cool.”

Holt bites his lip to stop any more embarrassing noises from escaping, focusing on slowly thrusting his hips into Jackson’s closed fist. Jackson’s words, his _praises,_ were going straight to his cock. 

“And tonight, well you were just amazing.” Jackson gushes. “You’re so beautiful up there Holt, in your element.”

_No, you._ Holt wants to say. What comes out is a whine, his knees buckling as Jackson twists his hand down the length of cock. He’s going so slowly, torturously, but Holt feels dangerously close to the edge all the same.

“Everybody wants you Holt.” Jackson says in a low voice. He kisses Holt’s jaw and Holt can feel the hard frame of his glasses pressing into his cheek. “Everybody wants you to themselves. But you’re all mine, right?”

Blood drips down Holt’s chip from where his fangs have pierced through his lip. “ _Hhhh-aaah-_ “

“So beautiful when you come apart for me.” Jackson says reverently. Holt can imagine his eyes now, shining bright with adoration. “I’m so lucky to have you Holt, you’re amazing, you’re _perfect-“_

Holt cums with a strangled cry as his orgasm rips through him, collapsing on top of Jackson immediately afterwards. It feels like forever until he catches his breath, only vaguely catching that Jackson is wiping his dirty hand on Holt’s pants. 

“So.” Jackson’s crisp voice cuts through the silence. “You have a thing for praise.”

All Holt can manage is a dry chuckle. “I get off on people being nice to me. Great.”

Immediately after his orgasm his stomach sank into a pit of self hatred. _Jackson_ was the good one, he was amazing and beautiful and all he had said- Holt was a Hyde. Evil. darkness, and sin personified. He was Jackson’s shadow, and he didn’t deserve his praise, his attention, his _love_.

“You’re getting all caught up in your head.” Jackson raps his knuckles on Holt’s forehead. “Don’t think so hard. It's unlike you.”

“Just don’t know if I’ll pop a boner the next time I get an A-“ Jackson kisses him then and Holt can’t pull away. It’s almost like it has a calming effect on him and he can feel his ire draining away. 

“If it makes you feel better, you can be mean to me.”

“I don’t _want_ to be mean to you?”

“But _I_ want you to.”

“ _Ohhhhh…”_

Jackson takes his hand, squeezing gently. “We’ll talk about this later okay?”

Holt squeezes back and sighs. “You wanna go home?”

Jackson blinks in confusion. “You don’t want to hang out with your friends?”

“They won’t even notice I’m gone.”

Jackson purses his lips but ultimately gives in, leaning in for one more deep kiss before the two brothers exit the room, quietly making their way down the dark hallway. A safe distance between them, totally platonic, just brothers leaving a party early definitely not going home to make out.

Once they’re outside again their hands find each other instinctively. Jackson's breath freezes in the cool evening air and Holt exhales pure steam.

Jackson turns and beams at him under the moonlight, perfect and wonderful and _bright,_ and Holt wants to confess right then and there.

_Not yet._ He bites his tongue. Running off with him under the full moon is enough, for now.

* * *

Spectra Vondergeist looks over the new photos in her collection with interest. An abandoned turntable, confused and distressed partygoers, and nerdy normie no one wanted Jackson dragging their prized Holt off by the hand mid-party.

  
She opens up a new page to _Ghostly Gossip_ and starts typing, a ghastly grin on her face.

This one was gonna be _good_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all these bitches do is kiss and hold hands good for them 
> 
> mh seems 2 use ghoul in place of god for expression like omg but that sounds wrong 2 me especially with how they use ghoul as girl most of the time so fuck it jacksons Christian now
> 
> In case it’s not obvious I have major housewife jackson brainrot. boys got daddy issues. tell me he wouldn’t wear a pretty yellow dress with stripes on it while waiting for holt to come home so he can take care of him and then get fucked right there on the table.


	5. jekyll’s plea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> would you believe me if I said everything is fine and nothing bad happens at all
> 
> notes: this chapter has mild somnophilia (sex while one person is asleep) at the beginning, I didn’t bother tagging it because it’s not very long and is ultimately consensual.
> 
> there's a BIG general dubcon warning all through this chapter. but only dubcon because even though jj might not have a choice in the matter he’s okay with it 
> 
> also graphic description of burn injuries in the latter half
> 
> if any of these squick you out I suggest you proceed with caution

_ Turntables left spinning after disturbing DJ disappearance! _

_ The big bash last night celebrating our dear Venus’ thousandth tree planted (yay!) was one that will be remembered for years, by those who were there for it. _

_ The party was dying down when it was realized that our resident DJ, one Holt Hyde, had disappeared without a trace. Close friends say that this kind of behavior isn’t unlike him- but usually he would at least say something. _

_ So what happened to our DJ? Now I can’t say for sure, but I did catch a picture of him being pulled away from the party rather forcefully. Now who would want to steal our DJ away from the biggest party of the year!  _

_ That other boy looks a little familiar, don’t you think?  _

* * *

Holt has decided the easiest way to deal with Jackson’s flailing at night was to just hold his arms to his sides and keep the boy captured against his chest. It worked, for the most part. Jackson noticeably calmed down with a warm body to relax into, and Holt’s night terrors melted away when his biggest worry was safe in his arms.

The worst part was waking up each morning with morning wood, his hard dick pressed up against his sleeping brothers ass.

It wasn’t Jackson’s fault he would grind against him in his sleep, drowsy sighs and moans escaping his soft mouth. It kind of was his fault he insisted on wearing those soft sleep shorts that bunched up around his legs, leaving his pale thighs exposed and bare.

Holt hears shuffling around downstairs. Mom’s home early it seems. 

He’s trapped between a rock and a hard place- or rather a soft and very very hot place- but he’s never made a smart decision in his life anyway and he’s not about to start now.

He hisses softly as he pulls down his own pants, his hard cock springing free. Jackson had a cute ass, small and soft, but Holt’s attention is a little lower this morning. 

The head is his cock is leaking precum already, slick enough that he slides between Jackson’s thighs easily. He has to bite down on Jackson shoulder to keep from moaning at the feeling, so soft and warm and deliciously  _ tight.  _ The position is awkward but Holt manages small thrusts, fucking Jackson’s thighs with a hand on his hips to keep him steady.

Jackson’s sleeping body isn’t the greatest partner, but the added taboo gets his blood pumping even harder. He’s watched Jackson in his sleep countless times, imagined standing over his bed and jerking off on that pretty face of his. Coving his innocent brothers face with cum while he slept, completely unaware of how lewd he looked, how  _ slutty. _

He feels Jackson begin to wake up as Holt presses hot kisses to his neck, jerking awake at the feeling of Holt’s dick sliding underneath his own. He makes a sleepy noise of confusion, a soft “wh-“ and Holt slaps his free hand over his brother's mouth before he can say anything else.

“Stay quiet.” Holt breathes in his ear. “Mom’s right downstairs.” 

Jackson nods sluggishly, still disoriented from waking up and Holt sees his hand reach down to his own cock, touching himself while Holt uses his thighs. His whimpers are just barely muffled by Holt’s hand, sensitive first thing in the morning. Holt thrusts against him harder now, encouraged by Jackson squeezing down on him deliciously. 

“ _ God _ , baby.” Holt breaths against his skin. “Just like that. Takin’ me in so well.” He can’t stop himself, the obscene words falling from his tongue. “You’re so needy for it, huh? Want my cock for real?”

Jackson’s moan might as well be a sob, arching his back in pleasure. Holt takes pity on him, reaching around Jackson’s body to take his weeping cock in hand. Jackson thrusts shakily into Holt’s hand, mewling in gratitude at finally being touched.

Holt can feel himself becoming unravelled, breathing hotly into Jackson’s ear. “I’m gonna move my hand now.” He says raggedly. “Can you control yourself?”

Jackson nods fervently, kissing the palm of his hand in gratitude. Holt obliges him, slowly lowering his hand but ready to stop him again in case he grows too loud.

“ _ Holt _ .  _ Holt-“  _ Jackson whimpers. “So hot- so  _ hot- _ “

“ _ Shhh _ baby.” Holt nips his ear in warning. “You hafta’ be quiet now.”

He’s not sure how their mother would react to walking in on her two sons, previously one son, rutting against each other like werecats in heat. He doesn’t think she’d be too thrilled. 

The perpetual fire in Holt’s gut reaches its peak and he has to harshly sink his teeth in the pale flesh of Jackson’s shoulder to keep from moaning out as he cums, hips thrusting in pleasure through the sensitive aftershocks of his orgasm. He jerks off Jackson roughly, intent on pushing him over the edge along with him whether he was ready or not. And Jackson, ever so obedient and docile, cums with a strangled cry. 

Holt slowly pulls out from between Jackson’s thighs, now sticky with sweat and cum. He clears his throat awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed by his own boldness. “Well, uh… good morning Jackie.”

Jackson turns onto his back, exposing the absolute mess Holt’s made of him. His face is flushed red, his pale chest rising and falling rapidly as he tries to catch his breath. His thighs are streaked with white and his short shorts are absolutely ruined. He looks beautiful. 

“Good morning, huh?” 

“You need to stop grinding against me in your sleep, whore.”

“Maybe you just need a modicum of self control.”

“Around you? Never.” Holt flashes a grin full of sharp teeth. 

Jackson looks down at himself and sighs. “Well, guess I  _ have _ to shower now.”

Holt smirks cheekily, full of pride at himself. “Want me to join you?” 

“I don’t want to deal with your dead weight leaning on me because you can’t take a shower without passing out.” Jackson rolls his eyes at him before carefully stepping out of bed. “You can use a wet rag or something.”

Holt deflates. “ _ Jackieee… _ ”

Jackson ignores him, as always. Fucker.

Holt rises soon after, wiping himself down with an old shirt laying on the ground. Jackson deserves the shower more than he did anyway, so he wasn’t going to complain. 

Well he  _ was  _ it just wasn’t going to have any real venom behind it.

He’s fully dressed before Jackson finishes his shower and he shuffles downstairs, stretching out his worn muscles with a yawn. “Mornin’ mom!”

“Oh, Holt.” Joanna Jekyll stops flitting around the living room for a moment, papers spilling out of her oversized briefcase. “Dear, I have to leave but I need to talk to the two of you.”

Holt raises an eyebrow in confusion as he walks past their kitchen table- mom always made breakfast when she was home, no matter how busy she was. He leans against the counter causally while biting off a corner of a piece of toast and shrugs at her. “Jackson’s in the shower, and he always takes forever to get ready anyways. What’s the deal?”

Joanna fidgets hesitantly, but ultimately gives in. “I suppose this would be an easier conversation with you anyways.”

Now Holt’s intrigued. “What’s up mum?”

Joanna opens her ever present briefcase and pulls out a small paper bag, the kind you would get from a pharmacy. “Now, I understand that as teenagers you have certain urges and I don’t meant to shame or discourage you from taking control over your own life and body-“

“Mom I’ve already had the sex talk. What is this.”

“-and while I don’t understand per say, I do realize that you and Jackson have a very unique relationship with each other-“

“Oh my fucking god-“

“Language young man. As I was saying…” She trails off, her eyes drifting away from Holt, wishing for a long painful death where the ground would open up and swallow him whole. She gathers her wits with a fierce determination in her eyes and hands over the bag. “Jackson is a human, and you are a monster. Speaking from experience with your father-“

“Please just kill me.”

“-in this bag is a special kind of cooling lubricant and condoms to cancel out your fire elemental scaritage so you don’t hurt him when you two are intimate, if you haven’t already.”

Holt had been anticipating this conversation eventually, looking toward it with dread and fear, but this was a hundred times worse he decided. He takes the offered bag meekly, refusing to meet her gaze. “Thank you.” He squeaks out.

Joanna smiles brightly, giving her son a pat on the head. “I’m off to work then! Stay safe!” 

Holt hears Jackson coming down the stairs right as the door closes behind her and he scrambles to hide the offensive bag out of sight. He ends up stuffing it deep between the cushions of the couch, hoping it never sees the light of day again. 

“Did mom leave already?” Jackson asks, perfectly clean with no traces of their morning activities. There’s no way Holt’s going to tell him what just happened. He’d rather die.

“Yep.” Holt hopes the mortification on his face has disappeared. “Had to go in early. Too busy. Barely got to say goodbye. You know how it is.”

Jackson looks at him strangely. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Not really.” Holt says honestly. “Nothing a long day of boring schoolwork can’t fix!” Hopefully he’d kill enough brain cells to completely forget about that conversation.

Jackson doesnt stop looking at him strangely but Holt’s used to that by now, and he only chokes a little when Jackson kisses him before heading out to the car.

* * *

The first sign that something is up is when Heath plasters himself to Holt’s side. 

“Dude, what are you doing?” Holt mumbles under his breath. “You’re not even in this class.”

“I’m your bodyguard.” Heath’s trying his best to look cool wearing dark aviator shades and standing over Holt with crossed arms. It doesn’t work.

“Thanks.” Holt rolls his eyes. “Guarding me from what exactly?”

“It’s okay cuz, we know what’s going on.” Heath pats him on the back and Holt just sighs, going back to his hissstory crossword puzzle.

* * *

As usual, Jackson’s day is going rapidly downhill.

He’s on the floor, scrambling backwards until he hits a wall of lockers. His attackers loom forward and he flinches as his displaced glasses are crushed underneath their feet.

“Everyone look at this  _ loooserr _ .” Manny’s leading the pack of course. “How lame do you have to be to force someone to hang out with you?”

Jackson’s shivering in fear but his mouth was always too quick for his own good. “What are you talking about?”

One of the ghouls snaps at him. “Everybody knows you’re forcing Holt to hang around you now, it’s all over Spectra’s blog! How  _ pathetic _ . What, are you blackmailing him?”

_ That’s  _ what this was about?

Goddamnit he told Holt this would happen.

“T-that’s not-“

“Cram it normie!” Manny closes in on him, picking Jackson up by the collar of his shirt and holding him where his feet can’t even touch the ground. “You might think you’re cool, might even think that you belong here but you  _ don’t _ . Holt’s the only reason we kept a freak like you around and without him there’s no reason for you to be  _ alive _ anymore.”

Tears gathered at the corners of Jackson’s eyes, but whether they were from Manny’s words or the pain he couldn’t tell.

The sign of weakness only spurs Manny on. “You’re  _ nothing  _ without Holt. Less than nothing. Just another lame waste of space trying to be something he’s not. Holt doesn’t like you buddy! The only reason he’s nice to you is because he feels bad for you, like everyone else in school does! They all look at you and wish you were gone so they wouldn’t have to deal with-“

He’s cut off when he suddenly turns to stone, and the crowd behind him as well. Still stuck in Manny’s grip, Jackson doesn’t have a great field of view but there’s only one monster that likes him enough to come to his rescue like that. 

“Deuce.” Jackson gasps in gratitude as the gorgon helps him down, wrenching Manny’s hands away from him.

Deuce keeps a strong hand on his shoulder. “I’m taking you to the nurse.”

“I’m fine.” Jackson says unconvincingly. Everything is a bit blurry without his glasses but he can feel Deuce take him by the hand.

* * *

“Are you guarding me from…. aliens?”

“Nope.”

Holt groaned, leaning back in his chair. “Just tell me dude.”

“You don’t have to play stupid Holt, it okay. I  _ know _ .”

“Know  _ what _ ?” Heath scoffs at him. “I don’t think you know your own left foot from your right.”

Heath is a little offended by that but he respects the sick burn. “About you and  _ Jackson _ man.”

That gets Holt’s attention. “Wha- no. How.” They had kept it secret, right?

Okay so they hadn’t tried very hard but it’s only been a  _ day _ -

“You were on Spectra’s blog last night. The whole school knows.”

Jackson’s actually going to kill him.

“Well, I uh-“ Holt scrambles for words, hands flailing. This is perhaps the worst day of his life so far. “Jackson uh, didn’t want people to know-“

“Yeah, no shit.”

“But I’m glad that you support us Heath.” He gives Heath an awkward shoulder pat and laughs forcefully. “Y’know I’m kinda glad everyone found out on their own, telling people we’re dating is really-“

“You’re  _ WHAT?” _

Heath's screech echoes through the silent Study Howl and Holt realizes that yes, his day can indeed get worse. “Isn’t that- isn’t that what you were talking about-“

“I was- I was talking about how everyone thinks Jackson is forcing you to do stuff with him now.”

Holt can’t stop himself. “Trust me he’s not forcing me to do  _ anything  _ if you know what I mean.”

“Please stop.” Heath has his head between his knees. “You’re joking right?  _ Right _ ?”

Holt forces out some laughter. “Uh, yeah! Totally dude, I mean why would I want to date Jackson? He’s a nerd first of all and his glasses are so dorky and his bowties? No one pulls off bowties. Unless you’re like, stripping, not that I’ve seen Jackson getting naked- well I mean I  _ have  _ but that’s just ‘cause we’re brothers and share a room- oh and also we’re brothers! So that’s a whole ‘nother reason why we aren’t dating.”

Heath looks painfully unconvinced. “ _ Jackson _ .”

“.... well technically we’re not “dating” ‘cause I haven’t asked him yet but we are exclusively fucking each other.”

“ _ Please shut the fuck upppp- _ “ Heath hisses out between clenched teeth. 

“Also I’m in love with him.”

“I’m actually going to throw up. Holt you were supposed to be  _ cool _ -“

Holt whacks him on the back of the head. “... mom knows too.”

“Your fucking  _ MOM?”  _ Heath cackles uncontrollably, completely bewildered at the turn this conversation had taken. “What did she even  _ say? _ ”

Holt rubs the back of his head in embarrassment. “Well the general vibe was ‘congrats on the ass here's some special lube’.”

“God your mom’s cool.”

The cousins give each other a manly fist bump before coughing awkwardly. “So… ‘wife’ huh?” Heath asks with finger quotes.

Holt smiles widely, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “Wife can be a gender neutral term.”

Heath wolf-whistles lowly, nodding his head in consideration. “He  _ would _ be a pretty girl…”

“Ey.” Holt smacks his arm. “Don't be a homewrecker now.”

Heath laughs, raising his arms up in surrender. “ _ Pfft _ , no way dude. I’m not  _ gay _ .”

“Well  _ good _ .” 

An awkward silence falls over both of them. Holt speaks up first, clearing his throat to ensure he sounds free of any nerves. “So uh, what were you talking about before? Guarding me from Jackson, what’s up with that?”

Holt sees guilt and fear laid out on Heath's face plain as day. Just then the most damning piece of all comes down, the cherry on top of Holt’s shitty day sundae.

_ “Holt Hyde to the Cursed Nurse’s office please. Holt Hyde to the Cursed Nurse’s office.” _

His face is a chilling death mask as he looks down at his cousin.

“We uh, thought…” Heath stammers nervously. “Manny had me cover you so…I had no idea, I never would have...”

Holt takes a deep breath to calm himself down, just like Jackson taught him. Ten breaths, in, out. “Heath.” He places a hand on Heath's shoulder and leaves it there, sharp nails digging into the thin fabric. “You are my cousin, and I love you. But if anything’s happened to  _ my _ Jackson....” He leaves the threat hanging, not wanting to hurt his cousin, just to scare him. He knew Heath wasn’t exactly Jackson's biggest fan so he just had to get it through his hollow skull that messing with Jackson was just like messing with him, and Heath would  _ never  _ dare to try anything with him.

Heath nods and gives a shaky thumbs up, trying his best to ignore the claws digging into his skin. Holt pulls back, giving him a pat for comfort. “And don’t tell anyone about me and Jackie, okay? He gets nervous, and you know what they say! Happy wife, happy life.”

He leaves as swiftly as he can, breaking into a dead sprint as soon as he’s in the hallway.

The Cursed Nurse’s office isn’t too far away thankfully, tucked right next to Headmistress Bloodgood's office. And Holt’s spent enough time in there to find his way in the dark with his hands tied behind his back. He skids to a halt right in front of the door and bursts in, surprising everyone in the room. “ _ Jackson _ !”

“‘M right here.” Jackson waves lamely at him and Holt can’t stop himself from leaping forward and holding him in his arms.

“Oh baby you  _ scared  _ me!” He laments, looking Jackson over for injuries. He notices Jackson’s lack of glasses and clasps him by the cheeks. “What happened, sweet thing?”

Holt hears a small cough and he turns his head slowly to where Deuce is standing, right by Jackson’s side. He had been so focused on his brother he hadn't even noticed his presence. 

“I’m fine.” Jackson sighs in that way that means he’s totally not fine. “Deuce saved me before anything really bad could happen.”

“ _ Really  _ bad?” He stares at Deuce hard for a second. Mixed thoughts of  _ why didn’t you get there earlier  _ and  _ why didn’t you get me first  _ flit around in his head but Holt grinds his teeth to keep his jaw shut.

“It’s nothing Holt, just Manny and his goons like always.” Jackson sighs. “I didn’t even want you to come down, Deuce insisted.”

Holt squeezed Jackson impossibly tighter, never breaking his gaze at Deuce. “Really.” 

Just then the Cursed Nurse herself floats in, interrupting the very one sided staring contest between the two monster boys. She only speaks in wails and death rattles, but she ushered the boys out effectively enough with her bony arms. 

Deuce closes the door behind them gently, leaving the two monsters on the abandoned hallway. Holt stands there, absolutely blazing with fury as he crosses his arms over his chest. 

“So.” He spits out. “What happened to my brother?”

Deuce just sighs. “I just turned the corner and he was being picked on by Manny again. He was saying some pretty serious stuff-“

“Like  _ what _ .” He snaps

Deuce refuses to step back. “Holt, look. I’m Jackson’s best friend-“

“Choose your next words carefully,  _ snake _ .”

“So I need you to know that I have absolutely no intentions towards your brother.”

Holt steps back then, face scrunched up in confusion. “What? Why- you think you’re too good for him or somethin’?” 

“Holt, dude.” Deuce groans in annoyance. “It’s like rule number one of bro code. Don’t mess with another guy's chick- or actual bro I guess.” 

This day just keeps on hitting Holt over the head and dragging him all over. “You  _ know _ ?!”

“You weren’t exactly subtle.” Deuce says with a pained face. 

Holt throws his hands up in the air. “Well fuck! Does  _ everybody  _ know?”

“Does everybody know what?” It’s Jackson, fresh out the nurses office with a pair of spare glasses. 

“Does everybody know how I’m going to skin Manny alive and feed him to Nightmare.” Holt says sweetly. “Come on baby, we’re goin’ home. Fuck this place.” He takes Jackson’s hand but Jackson is unresponsive, standing deathly still. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea Holt.” Jackson says carefully, keeping his eyes focused on the ground. 

Holt fakes a few unconvincing laughs. “Come on Jackie, come home with me and I won’t bug you about skipping ever again, promise.” 

Jackson finally looks at him and his face is deader than half of the school’s population. “Holt…” His grip on Jackson’s hand tightens severely, to the point where Jackson visibly flinches. Deuce steps in, laying a hand on Jackson’s shoulder to steady him and Holt’s vision goes red.

“ _ Fuck off! _ ” He snarls, yanking Jackson away from the threat. Holt hated him, hated him hated him  _ hated him _ -

“M fine Deuce.” Jackson’s voice is muffled from where Holt keeps him pressed against his body. “You can leave.”

“Are you sure-?”

“He said  _ leave _ .” Holt says cruelly, a wicked smile on his face. That’s right, Jackson chose  _ him _ . 

He doesn’t dare let Jackson go until Deuce is well out of sight and when he finally does relax his arms he’s shocked back a half step when Jackson pushes him away. “What the hell was that?”

“Why don’t you tell me?” Holt taps his foot agitatedly on the floor, trying to drown his excess anger. “What, is fucking Deuce your hero now?”

“Deuce is my  _ friend _ !” Jackson’s fuming too, the air between them heavily charged with hatred and fear. 

“He  _ wants  _ you.” Holt hisses. 

“You’re being ridiculous.“ Jackson spits back. “I’ll see you after class Holt.”

“Like hell I’m just gonna let you walk off!”

But Jackson does just that, spinning on his heel and stalking off down the hallway away from Holt. “Leave me  _ alone _ Holt.”

Holt goes up in flames, baring his teeth in a snarl. It’s almost  _ too  _ easy to run up behind Jackson and pick him up around his thin waist- digging his sharp not quite claws into the skin there in an instinctive desire to  _ mark _ \- and carry him over to the nearby boys restroom, ignoring his brothers shrill complaints the whole time 

There’s only one monster in there, a small little goblin wearing thick glasses and suspenders, but at just a glance of Holt’s rage filled face they bolt, running past the brothers to escape whatever the hell is going on. 

“ _ What the fuck are you doing.”  _ Jackson hisses at him when he’s let go, adjusting his clothes and trying to hide his furious blush. 

“Trying to  _ fucking _ talk to my  _ fucking _ brother!” Holt snaps, backing him up against the wall. “What the hell is going on? What happened? Why are you going cold on me all of a sudden?” He asks the questions rapid fire, his emotions a complete wreck. Jackson was his other half, his partner, his literal reason for existing. He can’t just stop them now, not when things were good, when  _ they  _ were good-

“Holt I need you to calm down.” Jackson speaks to him as if he were an angry dog, keeping his voice as calm as possible. 

Deep breaths. Count to ten. Just like Jackson taught him. “Okay.” He breathes out, forcing himself to loosen all his tensed muscles. “What’s going on.”

Jackson just sighs. “Everyone thinks I’m blackmailing you to spend time with me or whatever. Trying to be ‘cool’ I guess.” He doesn’t look Holt in the eyes, fiddling with the hem of his vest for comfort. “I told you you had fangirls.”

Holt’s face crumples. This was  _ his  _ fault, of course it was. “What did they say?” He clenches his fists at his sides, nearly shaking in rage. “Please baby  _ tell me _ .”

Jackson falls into himself. “Oh you know.” He mumbles. “Why am I even here, no one wants me here, I’m nothing, etc etc etc.” 

Instead of looking rage, a deathly calm settles deep down in Holt's core. “Tell me who.” Holt takes another step closer. “I know it was Manny. Heath too? Tell me, I’ll fix it.” He’s begging, convinced it would be as easy as that.

“The best way to help me Holt, would be to leave me alone for a while.”

“No.” Holt says with a laugh. “No way.”

Jackson rubs his face and sighs. “They  _ think  _ that because you can’t leave me  _ alone _ . Sitting on your lap, going to your parties? We couldn’t stand each other just a few days ago. People already hate me, of course they’re going to be upset I’m leeching off of you.” He’s unable to keep the sourness out of his voice, his face pinched in annoyance.

“... but I don’t want to.” Holt doesn’t understand. He  _ loves  _ Jackson, he wants to show him off to everybody. Why would people be against that? They weren’t even being romantic, just… overly friendly. 

“Let’s just go back to the way thing were-“

“ _ No!”  _ Holt interrupts him, laughing in shock and fear. “You can’t just…  _ break up  _ with me! You like me right? You told me so! You can’t just take it back you  _ can’t  _ I won’t  _ let you _ .“ His hands grab Jackson’s thin wrists, pinning them to the wall. His blood is pure fire, red hot and racing through his veins. He’s frantic and desperate and even in his frenzy he can’t help but press himself even closer to Jackson until their bodies are flushed chest to chest. 

“I didn’t mean that.” Jackson doesn’t look scared at all. “Just in public Holt. At school. Go back to ignoring each other. We literally live together, just you and me.” His blue eyes hold steady to Holt’s red and he lets his grip loosen. 

His heart is still pounding and without the turmoil of emotions clogging his senses Holt is free to focus on Jackson’s pretty face that he hasn’t kissed all  _ day _ , and the way his wrists fit perfectly in his hands with Jackson not even trying to fight back.

He takes Jackson's lips roughly and takes advantage of how his mouth opens in shock to slide his tongue in, forcefully deepening their kiss. Jackson struggles against his grip then but he’s no match for monster strength, and the friction just turns him on even more.

Jackson can’t help himself but kiss back, his will draining away every second Holt’s hungry mouth is on his. His mind is screaming at him, yelling at him to  _ stop stop it now someone could walk in at any moment  _ but his body ultimately wins out. When he shifts his hips against Holt’s and feels the obvious bulge there a jolt of excitement lights up his nerves and he lets out a small moan.

Holt knows when he’s won. When he finally pulls away Jackson’s glaring at him with half lidded eyes. “Did you not hear a  _ word  _ I just said?”

“Yeah.” Holt licks his lips. “But I got lost thinkin’ about what I wanna do to that pretty mouth of yours.”

“People can’t know Holt. They’d hunt me down, saying I’m drugging you with a love potion or something. They hate me Holt, and nothing you say or do will convince them otherwise.” Holt can see the genuine fear in his eyes. As much as Holt wanted to console him that he would track anyone who dared to lay a  _ finger _ on his brother, he knew Jackson was right. 

With a heavy sigh Holt turns towards the door. The handle isn’t a knob, just a curved piece of metal to make it easier for monsters of all kinds to swing it open. Cheap metal too. Holt wraps his hands around the edges of the handle right where it hits the door and focuses his heat into his palms. It goes red hot immediately, molten metal dripping onto the floor under him and he hears Jackson gasp out behind him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He hisses at Holt, who just ignores him with a roll of his eyes.

It’s easy to wretch the bar of metal free them then, biting a bright orange in his grip. He feels kind of like a blacksmith as he forces it straight and then presses it to the wall- right over the juncture of the door and doorframe. 

He stops applying heat and steps back to admire his work. It’s a shoddy job but literally barred in now and Holt kicks the door to try it out. 

It doesn’t budge. Perfect 

Jackson’s interested despite himself. “That’s amazing.” He admits. “But  _ why _ .”

“Now no one can interrupt us.” Holt says with a shrug. Jackson can’t deny him now, not when there was nothing to worry about. “It’s gonna be real hard stayin’ away from you Jackie boy. I might need to steal you away like this sometimes, just to get my fix y’know?”

“You’re incorrigible.” Jackson sighs.

“You’re in _ whore _ igible.” Holt shoots him a wink. 

Jackson just rolls his eyes. “Oh ha ha ha. You’re  _ soo _ funny.” 

“C’mon Jackie, you know I need it.” Holt runs his tongue over his sharp teeth. “You’re gonna have to try really hard to convince me, baby.”

“Convince you?” Jackson raises an eyebrow. “The threat of me getting horribly bullied isn’t enough?”

Holt huffs. “I could just never let you out of my sight. Do you want that?” 

Jackson just groans. “ _ Convince _ you. Holt we’re in a public bathroom this is  _ disgusting _ .”

“But it’s exciting~” Holt says with another wink. “If you want to take away my drug you have to give me something better, Jackie.” He lays a hand on the wall right besides Jackson’s head and leans in close, drinking in every detail of his flustered face.

“You’re  _ coercing _ me.” Jackson eyes dart back and forth, unable to keep Holt’s heady gaze for long. “I don’t have a choice.”

“I know.” Holt kisses the tip of his nose. “It’s exciting, isn’t it?”

Jackson has to look away then because it  _ was  _ exciting. The thrill of being caught, being used, the risk of utter humiliation. Holt’s greedy nature didn’t care about the consequences, he just wanted to get off. It wasn’t Jackson’s choice, it didn’t matter what he wanted, and that sends a sick rush of lust through his body.

He trusts Holt. He wants to do what Holt wanted. He wants to please him. 

“Alright.” Jackson’s mouth is dry as cotton. “What do I need to do to convince you?”

Holt kisses him one more time, smirking against his lips. It’s short and sweet and Jackson looks at him in confusion when he pulls away.

“I think it’s only fair…” Holt rasps in his ear. “That you use your mouth, right?”

Jackson can’t help but roll his eyes. “Making out in the school bathroom. How romantic.”

Holt’s smirk only grew, his hooded eyes dark with lust. “Not what I meant, sweetheart.”

Jackson’s confused for a second before realization hits him like a truck. “ _ No _ . No! I’m not going to blow you in a fucking  _ bathroom _ !”

“Hey, you said it yourself. You don’t really have a choice, baby.” Holt kisses down Jackson’s jawline, every bloom of heat on his skin whittling away at his self control. How can he say no? He can’t. Holt was in charge and Jackson had to play along. 

Plus he does really want to suck Holt’s dick.

“Okay.” He says quietly. “I’ll do it.” 

Holt wiggles in excitement. “Of course you will.”

Jackson feels like his heart is about to pound out of his chest. His eyes flick up to Holt’s nervously but Holt is just lewdly smiling back at him. Jackson’s never done this before but it’s not exactly complicated. Holt stepped back just far enough for him to slide down against the wall until he’s on his knees. His trembling hands fumble with Holt’s ridiculous belt buckle and his eyes dart to the sealed off door every few seconds.

“Ey.” Holt cuffs the side of his head. “Hurry it up down there.”

“Oh fuck you.” Jackson seethes, tugging down Holt’s zipper harder than necessary. 

“In the bathroom? Jackie that’s nasty.”

Jackson huffs in irritation, too annoyed to be embarrassed as he tugs Holt’s pants down around his hips. Holt’s cock rises in the air, precum gathering at the tip and dripping to the floor. 

“You know I’m not going to be able to flatter you with my mouth full.” Jackson swallows down his nerves, unable to take his eyes off of the cock right in front of his face. Saliva fills his eager mouth and his fingers twitch against Holt’s skin. He’s never done something like this before, but the urge to give in and choke himself on his brother's cock is  _ strong _ .

“Shut up and get to it.” Holt leered down at him, eyes literally burning in desire. “Unless you  _ wanna _ get caught.”

Jackson doesn’t trust himself to speak so he focuses on the task at hand. He wraps his hand around the base of Holt’s cock, spit and precum the only lube between them. Holt’s hot flesh burns, lighting up the pain receptors in his hand but Jackson ignores it. He takes a deep breath for confidence and licks the purple-flushed tip, tasting Holt before taking him fully into his mouth. 

It  _ burns _ , igniting all his nerves at once. Not in pain but in pleasure, Holt’s heat making Jackson melt around him. 

Holt hisses above him, struggling to hold back his own desires. Jackson’s mouth is  _ soft _ and  _ warm _ and better than he’d ever imagined. Jackson’s attempts to put up a fight were cute, but he was so eager to get down on his knees for him. Holt can read him like a book. Jackson’s shyness was as much an obstacle as it was an opportunity- Holt just had to mess with his head a little to help him enjoy the things that embarrassed him, like now.

Jackson’s utterly entranced by his cock, slowly bobbing his head back and forth and taking a few more inches in each time. The weight of Holt’s cock on his tongue is intoxicating, thick and pulsing with blood. His gag reflex is still a problem so he focuses his attention on the head, licking at the sensitive underside. His hand takes care of the other half, jerking him off in time with his tongue. Holt fucks into his mouth with short thrusts, almost more instinctual than anything. The head of his cock teases Jackson’s gag reflex on every thrust and Jackson wants nothing more than to take him fully down his throat. Holt would help him with that, work together to train Jackson out of that bad habit.

For a few minutes he forgets this is supposed to be for Holt’s pleasure, perfectly happy just to be on his knees with a cock in his mouth.

Holt runs his fingers through Jackson’s hair and Jackson moans at the touch, pulling off his cock with a soft, wet popping noise. He looks up at Holt in concern, his chest rising and falling rapidly to catch his breath. “What’s… what’s wrong? Am I bad?”

“Not at all baby.” Holt says breathlessly, caressing Jackson’s face in his hand. “Just need a break to calm down, okay? Don’t wanna disappoint you.”

Jackson narrows his eyebrows. “It was  _ you _ who wanted me to shut up and get on with it.”

“I’m just trying to enjoy it a lil’ longer baby, I’ve been on edge all day-“

“You came this morning!”

“Jackson I get hard everytime I look at you, you're just wearing me down now.”

“It’s not my fault if you can’t control yourself, I need to get to  _ class  _ Holt.” He was supposed to be studying for his Mad Science final right now. This blow job was actively impeding his education and he can’t have that. 

Jackson hooks his finger around one of Holt’s belt loops and pulls him in closer, taking his cock into his mouth in one smooth motion. Holt doesn’t home back in his thrusts now, fucking deeper into Jackson’s throat without worrying about choking him. Jackson doesn’t have to do any of the work, just keep his head steady and his jaw slack so Holt can do whatever he wants with him. 

It’s equal parts humiliating and arousing, just how Jackson likes it. It’s wet, sloppy, and debasing yet Jackson can’t help but moan and press his hand harshly between his legs. 

Holt fists his hand in Jackson’s hair and tugs. “C’mon Jackie, stop playing. We don’t want you getting  _ adickted _ ~”

The joke is so bad Jackson almost stops right there. 

Holt pulls on his hair again, rougher this time. “I love you on your knees for me, baby.” He says roughly. “You try and act like you’re all worried about getting caught but doll, that  _ is  _ what you want. No one would dare to hurt you once they see how pretty you are with a cock in your mouth.”

Jackson blushes impossibly darker at that, his blood pounding in his ears.  _ I don’t want that- do I?  _ Everyone seeing him, debauched and desperate at his brother's feet. 

Well, it’s not like his social life could get any  _ worse _ . Jackson lets his eyes flutter closed, giving in fully to Holt. His hands claw weakly at Holt’s sides, mewling as his mouth is fucked mercilessly. 

“My boy.” A pleased growl reverberates through Holt’s chest. “You’re mine, sweet thing. Meant to be together, made for each other.” Holt’s hips begin to stutter in his thrusts, bracing himself on the wall and forcing himself down Jacksons throat. The delicious tightening of Jackson's throat as he chokes only propelling him on. 

But it’s Jackson's face that pushes him over the edge. Tear tracks streak down his cheeks, sobbing and gagging as Holt fucks his face. He has his hands on Holt’s hips but he’s not pushing him away. Jackson’s letting Holt use him, letting him make Jackson an absolute  _ mess _ . 

Holt doubles over in on himself, moaning out loudly as he cums down his brother's throat. Jackson does push him away then, spitting Holt’s cum out of the floor. 

“Jesus.” Jackson coughs out. His voice is rough, completely fucked out and Holt takes pride in that. “Are you trying to kill me?” 

“Now why would I do that?” Holt pants out, resting his head against the cool wall. “I’d lose my perfect personal whore.”

Jackson wipes his mouth with his sleeve and shifts off his knees, wincing at the feeling of his sleeping muscles. Holt’s words and the effect they have on him still embarrass him terribly, but fill him with warmth at the same time.

“Was that mean enough?” Holt asks carefully. As much fun as he had wrecking Jackson, he didn’t want to go  _ too _ far. Yet. Jackson leans his head against Holt’s leg and nods, unable to form words. Holt pats his head lovingly. “You wanna go home now?”

Jackson looks up at him and even with his messy face he pulls off the specific glare that means ‘shut up Holt’ effortlessly. 

“Okay, okay I got it.” Holt gives in with a shrug. “I’m gonna open up that door, you better get yourself cleaned up, darlin’. Don’t want people to know how easy you are after all.” He teases. 

“You leave first, I’ll be out in five or ten minutes. Jackson holds his hand out and Holt takes it, helping him to his feet. “I’ll see you after school.”

“Awwww, come on Jackie…” Holt whines. “We can’t even leave the bathroom together?”

Jackson gives him the look again. 

“Wait.” Holt holds his hands out in front of him. “I’m  _ not  _ going to leave with you, because that would go against the whole avoiding each other thing that I agreed to.”

Jackson can’t help but crack a smile. “Smart boy.”

Holt preens at the praise. “Alright.” He sighs dramatically. “But I’m going to be thinking about what I’m going to you all day.”

“I’m sure you will.” Jackson laughs softly. “You’re probably not gonna kiss me now though.” 

Holt doesn’t even bother to reply, pulling Jackson in for a sweet kiss. When they seperate Jackson's eyes are wide, and he buries his face in Holt’s shoulder. 

“You’re so cute.” Holt kisses the top of his head. “Nothing could keep me from you Jackie.”

“Nothing.”

* * *

The final bell.

Holt hurdles over anything in his path, his only objective seeing Jackson again as fast as possible. It’s only when he finally bursts out the school doors and sees his brother waiting inside the car does he remember that he’s supposed to be playing it cool.

The joy at seeing his (beloved, darling, precious) Jackson falls away almost immediately then. He stalks towards Jackson’s car with his hands deep in his pockets, knocking on the dim window to be let in.

“It’s unlocked.” He can hear Jackson brushing him off from outside and he has to hide his pout.

He opens the door by himself and slides into his seat, crossing his arms with a huff. “School sucks without you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t too bad.” Jackson’s cleaned himself up, making it impossible to tell he’d been deepthroating his brother's cock just a few hours earlier. 

“It  _ wassss _ .” Holt groans. “Did anyone else give you trouble?”

Jackson sighs. “A few glares and I’m sure people were talking behind my back, so nothing out of the ordinary.”

“If you told me who…” Holt leaves his sentence hanging. Jackson just rolled his eyes. Holt would have to find out by himself them, shouldn’t be  _ too _ hard. “ _ Alright _ Jackie.”

“Thank you.” Jackson has absolutely no faith that Holt can hold himself back, but he admires his protectiveness. No one's milling around the parking lot this late, so he leans across the divider to press a quick kiss to Holt’s cheek. 

Holt goes up like a match in excitement, pushing himself towards Jackson for more. He misses Jackson's lips more often than not, kissing his cheeks and nose and chin and forehead-

“Stop!” Jackson laughs as he pushes Holt off. “You’re so needy.”

“Your fault.” Holt teases him. “You spoil me too much.”

“Trust me.” Jackson says. “I know.”

Jackson drives with both hands on the wheel, which is totally lame because Holt can’t grab his hand without risking both of their lives. He can nuzzle into Jackson’s shoulder lovingly without annoying him too much though. “I can’t wait to have you all to myself tonight.”

“Tonigh-? Oh sorry, I’m tutoring Torelai after school.” Jackson says casually. 

Holt pulls back, looking at Jackson incredulously. “What- why?”

Jackson just shrugs. “I’ve been tutoring her for a couple weeks. We always meet today.”

Holt clenches his jaw, but stays cool. “That’s nice. Didn’t you two go to prom together?”

Jackson parks carefully by the curb in front of their house before turning to face him. “Holt, I’m  _ gay _ .”

“Okay.” Holt still pouts. “Hey, am I gay?”

“I don’t know?” Jackson shrugs. “Do you like guys?”

“I like  _ you _ .”

“Do you like any other guys?”

“Just you.”

“Okay, do you like girls?”

“I only like you.”

“... would you like me if I was a girl?”

“I’d like you even if you were a chameleon like Crossfade.”

Jackson can’t help but laugh at that. “You know, labels aren’t for everyone.”

“You’ll be my lovely chameleon wife. And I, your charming chameleon husband.” Holt says dramatically.

“Get out of my car.”

“ _ Our  _ car!” Holt calls out down the road as Jackson drives off.

Well shit. There go all his plans for the night. He could sit at home and obsessively wait for Jackson to come back or he could try to regain some of his reputation to prove he isn’t completely whipped.

He sighs and slides his iCoffin out of his back pocket and dials Heath. 

“Ey, Jackson just blew me off. Not in the good way either. Any parties tonight?”

* * *

There was always a party somewhere, or a raid against) a rival school, a prank war with the normies- the night life was jumpin’. Had to be for the monster kids, the light of day wasn’t made for them. Night was when they truly came alive.

It’s late when he finally gets home of course. He didn’t forget what was waiting for him, not at all, but figured Jackson might want a break. He knew he was… overbearing. He couldn’t help himself, Jackson was just so innocent, perfect and pure.

The original Hyde was born of unwanted emotions, cruelty, hatred, and lust. Holt secretly suspects that never really changed.

The back door to the house slides open silently and Holt sneaks in, making sure to avoid the creaky floorboards as he eagerly hops the steps. The door to their shared rooms swings open slowly and he peeks his head in to make sure he won’t disturb his better half.

Jackson’s curled up on his bed, looking small and frail dressed in one of Holt’s old t-shirts. He fell asleep with his glasses on again, a trait that Holt finds incredibly endearing.

“Hy?” Jackson asks blearily, raising his head.

“Hey love.” Holt whispers. He takes Jacksons glasses off for him, setting them gently on a side table. “Shhh, shh baby, go back to sleep.”

Jackson yawns and holds his arms out, squeezing his hands open and closed in invitation. “Cm’ere.”

Holt doesn’t even bother changing out of his clothes, climbing into Jackson’s arms sneakers and all.

“This is going to be hard.” Holt sighs as Jackson cuddles up to him. Jackson makes a sleepy noise that’s probably an agreement. Holt presses a kiss to the top of his head and waits until his breathing settles, sleeping soundly once again.

“Love you Jackie.”

* * *

Not being seen together was super easy actually! Especially since their schedules never ever synched up! 

“I have D&D tomorrow-“

“I’m actually picking up a babysitting gig-“

“Clair called me and-“

“AV club-“

“New Salem High is-“

Every new excuse Jackson made set Holt’s teeth on edge. He had never cared just how much  _ stuff _ Jackson actually did until it was in his way. 

“ _ Please _ Jackie?” Holt begged him. He wasn’t above getting on his knees either. It’s only been a few days, maybe a week since their ‘agreement’ and in all the spare seconds in between they had with each other had subsisted of desperate kisses and even more desperate handjobs. Jackson refused to do anything with mom in the house and Holt didn’t have the courage to tell him that she didn’t care, but if he kept this up he might just have to.

Jackson has a planner filled out for them. What started as his brother being cute and studious was now the bane of Holt’s existence. 

“Alright!” Jackson chirps happily, pacing back and forth across their bedroom. “I’m volunteering with Chad and Clair at the library until seven tonight-“

“Don’t go.” Holt groans, not that it’s ever changed Jacksons mind.

“What are your plans Holt?” Jackson ignores him.

Holt just sighs. “Jackie, don’t you think this is going a bit too far? Not being seen together is different than always having different plans all the time.”

Inside his heart was dark and twisted.  _ Of course Jackson doesn’t want to be seen with you. You’re a creature, a born antagonist. You’re not the hero, you don’t get the boy, you don’t get a happy ending. _

“Just a few more days, okay?” Jackson gives him a little smile. “I just want things to settle down.”

Holt just grunts and turns over in bed, facing the wall.

He can’t help but soften when Jackson presses a kiss between his shoulder blades though. “I miss you too.”

Holt grumbles in reply, pulling his knees tight to his chest when he hears the door close gently behind him and the car start up and roll out of the driveway.

Maybe it hits him so much harder because he was never meant to be on his own. It's alright though, because then he wasn’t holding Jackson back anymore. 

Holt doesn’t want to admit it, but he’s been going over Jacksons notes. He doesn’t understand most of it, but surely making a serum can’t be that hard. Separating one body into two is easy, merging them back together? Holt wouldn’t even know where to start. And asking Jackson was out of the question.

Holt groaned and pulled a pillow over his face, muffling his pain. He missed Jackson like a phantom limb. Holt was painfully aware of the lack of his voice in his head and his body by his side, left feeling uncomfortably hollow and tender. 

The pillow smells like Jackson. Holt just groans louder before hurling it across the room. 

The last time they had had each other was two nights ago, Holt had jumped on him before they even got the door open and they had stripped each other right there, rolling on the ground of the living room. Jackson was so cute with his button up shirt pushed up under his arms, exposing his pale chest and soft pink nipples for Holt to bite and suck at his leisure. 

But that was  _ two days ago _ . Holt had to admit it, their relationship was slowing down. And it  _ terrified  _ him. What was he supposed to do with himself when Jackson gets tired of him? When he decides to end their little game, when he figures out he’s made a mistake. 

Holt wants to keep Jackson as close as possible for as long as possible.He rolls over and keeps his eyes shut, trying to force himself to sleep. Maybe when he wakes up Jackson will be home.

* * *

Holt dreams of fire, and of Jackson.

Jackson’s skin is charred, red and blistered. He smiles sweetly at Holt and Holt feels the urge to vomit.

“I love you, Holt.” Jackson tells him. When he talks the burnt skin on his face cracks, fresh blood dripping across his scarred face. “I forgive you.”

Holt drops to his knees and gags violently. But he’s unable to keep his eyes off the nightmare in front of him. Jackson’s legs aren’t any better, mottled with purple bruises and black burns- all in the shape of hands. 

Jackson falls to his knees too, his ruined flesh tearing and sloughing off. “I like it when you hurt me.” He grabs Holt’s hand and Holt can feel every knob of bone in his thin fingers. 

“Stop it.” Holt croaks out. He doesn’t want this. This Jackson- Holt would never do this. 

“Of course you would.” Jackson reads his thoughts. “You already have.” Jackson kisses his hand with what remains of his lips, dry and cracked beyond repair. “You’re my Hyde. We destroy each other-it’s fate, my love. I drive you mad, and you kill me.”

Jackson goes up in flames and Holt wakes up in tears.

He’s shaking like a leaf and practically swimming in sweat, and it’s by pure luck that he makes it to the trash can when he vomits. 

The memory won’t leave him. He- he would  _ never _ \- he doesn’t want to hurt Jackson he loves him, loves him loves him  _ loves him _ -

He scrambles for his phone, crawling across the floor. Still trembling he manages to type out a text and send it.

_ jckn plea call m _

That would have to do. Holt lies on the floor right there between their beds, body wracked by the occasional sudden sob.

Minutes passed by and Holt’s phone remained silent.

_ are yuo oky  _

_ ajckosn pleas _

_ I meed uou  _

He picks Jackson's number out of his contacts and hits dial. He just wants to hear Jackson's voice, annoyed and exasperated instead of that saccharine sweet of his nightmare. 

Voicemail.

Holt cries out in pure anguish before hanging up. 

Something was wrong. Something had to be, Jackson wouldn’t just ignore him like this-

He sent text after text to Jackson, calling every so often and every time he was met with radio silence. As his fear slowly,  _ slowly _ , drained away it was replaced with a sharp angry fire. He felt embarrassed,  _ humiliated  _ at himself for being so worked up over a fucking  _ bad dream _ . He was supposed to be the strong one, the protector. How that fuck was he supposed to protect anything when a bad dream made him into a complete pussy?

_ are you ignoring me _

_ jackson what are you doing  _

_ answer me _

_ who are you with  _

_ come home now _

He’s enraged, pacing the length of the upstairs corridor until he sees car headlights cut through the windows.

It’s  _ late _ , too late to blame on fucking volunteer work. Jackson was out there living it up, probably at one of his fucking normie parties while Holt was alone, at home, pathetically crying on the floor and begging him to come back. 

Jackson doesn’t even get to open the door, Holt slams it open for him. 

“ _ Where the fuck have you been. _ ” Holt snarls. He grabs Jackson’s right arm by the wrist, yanking him inside. “You better have  _ lost _ your fucking phone or something.”

“What’s going on?” Jackson gasps in shock. “Is everything okay?”

“ _ No _ !” Holt shouts, tightening his grip. “Nothing’s  _ fucking _ okay! I’ve been trying to get to you for fucking  _ hours  _ now and you couldn’t bother to pick up?! Send me a text? ‘Hey Holt I’m not dead in a ditch somewhere, heart emoji ex-oh-ex-oh’.” Holt says mockingly. 

Jackson’s face falls. “I-I’m sorry- my phone was off because of the library-“

Holt barks out a laugh. “Like I’m gonna believe you were at the goddamn  _ library  _ all night! Where didja really go, huh? Out for drinks with your friends? Played a couple rounds of, what was it, truth or dare? Spin the bottle?”

Jackson’s jaw drops in shock, but snaps back shut in fury. “What __ is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me is that I’m tired of being dragged along like this!” Holt waves his arms frantically, taking Jackson’s with him. The built up emotions spill out, finally falling off his chest. “Do you want to be with me or not? Is this just fucking sex to you?” He sounds desperate, pathetic, and that pisses him off even more.

“Holt, I-“

“Shut up!” Holt cries. He rushes forward, pinning Jackson against a wall. Jackson tries to pull away but Holt only holds him closer. He holds Jacksons wrist tight, like the pulse there is his only lifeline. “I don’t understand what your game is here, I’ve been going along with it because it made you happy but I’m going  _ insane _ !”

Jackson tries to comfort him, acting normal like nothings wrong. It sends chills up Holt’s spine. “I told you, I’m just looking out for us-“

“Just let me protect you.” Holt begs, his voice cracking. “You’re worrying too much! I mean, we’re not even really brothers, we’re the same person! I-I’ve been thinking, why not go back to sharing a body? No one could tear us apart then right? Right?”

“I think you should take a second and calm down.” Jackson says slowly. “I think this is the best choice for us, for now.” He’s scared- he’s scared of  _ Holt _ . It infuriates him even more and he bares his teeth in a snarl.

“Sorry to tell you  _ baby _ , but you already made your choice. You came on to  _ me _ , remember? You wanted it and you got it, you can’t just throw me away!” Holt’s crying in rage and the tears turning to steam as soon as they fall. He can’t stand looking at Jackson’s face, twisted in pity. He’s mocking Holt and any second now he’s going to burst out into laughter and let Holt in on the joke. Holt can feel himself heating up slowly, completely overcome by his turmoil of emotions.

“I fucking  _ love you _ Jackson! I love you, I'm  _ in love  _ with you!” He cries out. There it is, out in the open at last. It doesn’t feel relieving, it feels like he’s been hollowed out and left to die. Jackson’s pulse is racing and one of Holt’s fleeting thoughts is that he hopes it’s in time with his own heartbeat. “You  _ can’t  _ get rid of me, I’ll never let you leave! You’re  _ mine, mine, mine _ !! I’ll beat anyone that comes near you, I’ll burn them to a  _ crisp _ ! We’re meant to be together Jackson! Made for each other! Two halves of a whole! Soulmates!  _ My true fucking love _ !”

He smashes his lips into Jackson’s forcefully, less of a kiss and more of an act of desperation. He mumbles declarations of love and ownership until he hears Jackson scream.

Jackson pushes him off and Holt staggers back, shocked. Jackson’s on his knees, breathing raggedly and holding his arm close to his chest. The arm Holt had been clutching down on.

No. No no  _ no _ -

“Oh my god.” Holt’s lucky he's already thrown up everything in his stomach because the wave of nausea sends him to the floor. “Jackson- Jackson-“

Jackson’s face is pinched in pain, hissing through his teeth. “I’m fine.” He lies. “I’m fine.”

“Let me see it.” Holt can’t bring himself to touch his brother. He had done this. Probably on purpose too.

Jackson holds his injured arm out reluctantly and Holt doubles over, holds his head in his hands and  _ screams _ .

The topmost layer of skin was burnt through like paper, exposing the sickly pale pink of flesh beneath. Blood seeps slowly from dozens of veins, opened and cauterized in the same moment. 

A handprint. But this one isn’t a cute little love mark, this is an  _ injury _ . 

“Come on.” Holt shakily rises to his feet. “I’m taking you to the hospital.” He picks Jackson up on his own, draping his good arm over his shoulder. 

“It-its fine-“

“Jackson.” Holt’s voice breaks. “Don’t…”

_ Don’t try and make me feel better. Don’t force yourself to forgive me. Don’t ignore this like you have every other warning sign.  _

“I can’t drive like this.” Jackson sighs in defeat.

“Guess I’m gonna learn today.” Holt says.

Jackson doesn’t deign to argue and Holt’s broken heart clenches at just how bad it must be. Holt urges Jackson into the car gently and buckles te belt for him, painfully away of how close they were. His presence probably makes the pain worse. He slides in to the driver's seat and takes a deep breath, counting to ten just like Jackson taught him. He knows this, it’s all muscle memory left over from when he was part of Jackson. If it was ever going to kick in, now was the time.

He lets Jackson lead him to the hospital, crushing silence hanging over them besides the occasional direction. Holt can hear Jackson hissing in pain, holding back cries when they go over a bump or take a corner too fast. Holt doesn’t know if he should be driving as slow as possible or as fast as he can. Seems that either way, Jackson suffers. They make it there in one piece but Holt can’t bring himself to be proud in his first successful attempt at driving. How can he when Jackson winces at the bounce of the car stopping? 

Holt runs to Jackson’s side of the car as fast as he can, but he falters. It feels almost like a desecration to touch him again, it was his fault they were here after all. Jackson can walk on his own fine enough, the injury is only on his hand after all, but he holds his hand out to Holt anyway. Holt sees it for what it really is.

_ I forgive you.  _

Holt can’t bring himself to take it.

Holt’s leads him into the hospital, wondering why this seems so familiar. Oh yeah, because he’s sent Jackson to the hospital a good couple of times already. 

He sure is a catch, isn’t he.

Jackson is seen to immediately, taken away back into the ER for attention to his burn. Second degree, Holt catches. At least there’s that, he didn’t fuck up as much as he  _ could  _ have.

Jackson looks over his shoulder at him as he's pulled away, mouth open and calling out to him, but Holt just watches him disappear. He stands there dead on his feet until someone approaches him, a calm nurse asking for their information.

It’s the chimera nurse. Holt feels himself starting to cry again. What happened? Oh, he burnt his brothers skin off in a jealous rage after accusing him of using him for sex and then confessed his love.

He holds out the keys to Jackson’s car. “These are his.” He says monotonously. “Don’t let him leave until he’s fully healed. He’ll try and leave earlier- he’s real stubborn- but make sure he doesn’t okay?” Holt’s throat is closing up but there’s so much more he needs to say. “And make sure he eats something, anything. Uh, tell him mom will bring him his school work. And I’ll- no don’t mention me- tell him Crossfade will be taken care of.”

“Sir.” The nurse looks at him kindly. “Would you like to stay? You’re free to tell him these things yourself.”

Holt shakes his head frantically. “Please make sure he gets this.” He drops the key into their paw and spins around, heading out the door before he can change his mind.

The bus stop is only a few blocks away, and Holt waits about half an hour until one rolls up for him. He doesn’t have enough change- but the driver spares him one look and lets him go on to the back. He can’t begin to imagine what he must look like, covered in tears and sweat. Holt stares out the window into the dead of night the whole ride. He can’t go home. Not now, probably not ever again. 

The bus crawls to a stop and Holt steps off, giving the kindly driver a choked off thank you. He walks a few more blocks with his hands deep in his pockets until coming to his destination and then Holt stalks up the driveway and knocks on the door. It takes a few minutes for someone to hear him, stumbling down the stairs and to the doorway.

“Dude.” Heath glares at him, wiping the sleep from his eyes. “It’s like… twelve in the morning.”

“Can I sleep here tonight.” Holt blurts out. “And maybe for a couple weeks.”

Heath blinks in confusion. “Of course bro. Did something…”

“Me n’ Jackson got in a fight.” Holt admits. “I hurt him. I hurt him real bad Heath.”

Heath pokes his head out and looks around as if Jackson is hiding behind a corner. “Oookay, where is he?”

“I drove ‘im to the hospital.”

“And he’s going to be okay there?”

Holt jerks his head up and down.

“Come in here buddy.” Holt says soothingly. “You look terrible.”

“I am terrible.” Holt croaks out.

“No you’re not.” Heath shushes him like he’s a stray dog. “Are you going to be able to sleep tonight?”

Holt remembers his nightmare, the one that started all this and then came true. He shakes his head and chokes back a sob.

“Alright. I’m gonna get you one of moms Xanax and then we’ll skip school tomorrow. Deal?”

Holt grabs him in a hug then, crying into the top of his cousin's head. “I didn’t- I didn’t even say  _ sorry _ -“ 

“We can go by and see him tomorrow-“

“ _ No _ !” Holt raises his voice. “I can’t- all I do is hurt him Heath I’m so  _ terrible  _ I’m the  _ worst _ -!”

There’s a creak from the floor above them and both boys look up at the ceiling. 

“Sleep now. Problems later.” Heath declares.

Holt follows him sluggishly, knowing that even in sleep he won’t escape his problems.

At least Jackson was safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you all for sticking with this story with me!!!! your comments are so nice they make me smile :-)) 
> 
> this chapter knocked me out dragged me to the backyard and then beat me with a crowbar 
> 
> ALSO SOMEONE TELL ME WHY IVE MADE THREE NURSE OCS FOR THIS STORY JIST BECAUSE I LIKE SEEING JACKSON IN PAIN LOL
> 
> next chapter will be the last, unless I add an epilogue (more than likely) 
> 
> (dw, in a sucker for a happy ending)


	6. sympathy, tenderness

“So, Jackson.” Dr. O’Hair tapped her pencil on her clipboard, glancing over at Jackson where he sits. Holt’s plans for Jackson’s long term stay in the hospital were all for not after all. A few hours being poked and prodded by the nurses and his wound was cleaned, wrapped, and he had a nice prescription for a heavy painkiller. “What happened here exactly?”

“It was an accident.” Jackson says through his teeth. “Me and Holt- my brother- were arguing and things just got out of hand.”

“Of course.” The werelady nods. Jackson hates the look in her eyes, that suspicion and _pity_. He knows how he looks right now, a battered housewife defending her partner because it was an accident, he didn’t mean it, he’s so sweet the rest of the time. “Remember, this is a safe space here Jackson.”

Jackson clenches his teeth, nostrils flaring as he tries to hold back his anger. “I know, doctor.”

Doctor O’Hair looks him over for a few more unbearable seconds before glancing back down to her clipboard. “Well, your arm is fine Mr. Jekyll. I recommend you keep it bandaged to avoid irritation of course, but once the redness goes down you should be fine. If any blisters form or the skin dries out or breaks, come back and we will look you over and treat you accordingly. You’re free to go if you don’t have any other questions.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you.” Jackson nods quickly and stands up even faster, bolting for the door. He can feel his heartbeat throbbing in his wrist as he runs back into the waiting room.

No Holt. 

Jackson blinks and rubs at his eyes. He must be seeing things- or rather, not seeing things. There’s no way he could miss a flame headed blue boy in the drab waiting room. The room is still empty when he opens his eyes. Ice grips at Jackson’s heart but he’s shook out of it when a kindly looking nurse approaches him. “Hello, mister Jekyll?” 

“Yes?” He jumps at the sound of his name. 

“Your... friend wanted me to give you these.” The pity in their voice gives them away and Jackson watches numbly as his keys tumble into his hand.

His mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “Thank you.”

“He left right after he dropped you off.” The nurse sighs deeply. “There’s a bus stop a few blocks down, he probably took that.”

“He’s not going to be home.” Jackson says emotionlessly.

“He’s very worried about you.” 

Jackson looks away and clenches his jaw. “Obviously.” He can’t stop the sarcasm seeping into his voice.

“Perhaps he thought you would be safer on your own.” The nurse squeezes his shoulder with a lion's paw and Jackson barely feels it, cold and numb.

“He’s stupid then.”

“Maybe.” The nurse agrees. “But his heart is in the right place.”

Jackson nods and bites his lip worriedly. “Alright.” 

Jackson looks at the keys in his hand. His left hand, because his right was currently out of use.

How the hell was he supposed to get home like this.

“Fuck.” Jackson sighs. “ _Fuck_.”

Well, last night had happened. Most of it was a blur for Jackson, full of confusion and fear. He had lost track of time and when he got back… Jackson swallows hard at the memory. Holt had been wild, out of his mind, speaking complete nonsense. 

And now he had abandoned Jackson at the hospital, no doubt retreating in guilt. He wasn’t going to be at home, he could be anywhere. 

“ _Fuck_!” Jackson curses again. A sickly looking monster glares at him but he just scoffs and rolls his eyes. Resists the urge to sneer or stick his tongue out childishly. That was more of a Holt thing to do.

He’s too tired for this. Tired and in pain and sick and sad. Jackson rubs at his sore wrist on the way out to the car. Holt just needed time to cool down, he’d come back. Hopefully. Probably. 

Jackson drives home in silence, holding his arm close to his chest. Sure enough, the house is empty. 

Jackson collapses onto his own bed- it didn’t seem right to take Holt’s- and opens up his phone for the first time since last night, reading the multitude of messages from Holt. Every missed text sends another wave of guilt washing over him. Holt was out there somewhere, no doubt hating himself over what had happened and it was all Jackson’s fault. It was his idea to keep it a secret after all, and deliberately limiting their time together hadn’t helped.

Jackson held his lifeless pillow close, wishing it was his brother's warm body. He wasn’t surprised he had managed to fuck up so severely, not at all. His emotions went haywire whenever Holt was near, yearning and scared and envious all at once. 

When making his serum, their main concern was whether Holt would be able to survive outside of Jackson’s body. That had of course been turned on its head when Holt was freed and Jackson had been hospitalized, but Jackson had his own view on things.

It was simple really, once you stepped back to look at it. Holt was beloved by the community, a little bit of a nuisance sure, but he was outgoing and popular and funny- all the good traits. Meanwhile Jackson was stubborn and awkward, jealous and hateful. 

Surely he was the Hyde in them all along. Masquerading as the good one and leaving his perfectly innocent brother in the dark.

A familiar voice tells him that Holt wouldn’t put up with him saying that, but Holt wasn’t there so Jackson just held his pillow closer until he struggled to breath and tried to force himself to sleep.

* * *

Holt traced a frowny face on the soot staining Heath’s wall, sighing deeply. The music blaring from his headphones was some whiny punk break up song, something he’d usually despise but Holt was fucked enough to actually relate to the desperate wailing. 

“Oh man.” Holt watched him pace around like an animal in a zoo. “Oh man.”

Holt sighs again, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. “I’m the worst.”

“No you’re not.” Heath says cautiously. “C’mon, Jackson wouldn’t like you talking like that.”

Holt groans and falls fully down to the floor, face down in the dirty carpet. “I miss Jacksonnnn…”

“Go see him?” Heath says, exasperated. 

“Noooooo, he doesn’t want to see meeee….”

“Dude, I don’t want to be your weird incest relationship counselor. You are asking me for advice. _Me_.” Heath points at himself.

“I didn’t even say sorry.” Holt stares off into space. “Oh God he was _crying_ and I didn’t even say _sorry_ -“

“Okay this is still happening. Okay.” Heath brushes his hair back. “Jackson’s going to forgive you dude.”

“That’s the _problem_ !” Holt sits up, gesturing with his hands. “I keep on fucking up and Jackson keeps forgiving me, he’s going to get tired of me and _leave,_ if I haven’t lost him _already-“_

_Okay Heath you can do this. Think like Abbey._ Heath clears his throat. “You are being stupid. You like Jackson, Jackson like you. Be together. Sure, you have accident! Talk about it like normal couple!”

“... your accent sucks.” Holt says dryly, but he cracks a small smile.

“Are you kidding? That was spot on!” Heath huffs. 

Holt stands up with a groan, stretching his worn muscles. “What time is it?”

“Time for you to get a watch.” Heath shoots some finger guns.

Holt’s face falls. “Jackson sets the alarm…”

“You’re so whipped dude.”

Holt collapses face down on the bed next to him. “We have to go to school today.”

Heath scrunches his nose. “Gross dude. No way.”

“I need to pick up his homework… and like, take _notes_.”

Heath fakes a gag. “That’s gay dude.”

“I miss Jackson…” Heath rolls his eyes. At least he wasn’t whining anymore. “Jackson’s so pretty…. even while he cries. I know it’s messed up but…”

“That’s… a little weird but okay if talking about your weird crying kink gets us out of school for the day then I guess-.”

“His eyes get all watery when he’s about to-“

“ _Fuck-_ okay we’re going to school you weirdo.”

* * *

It’s an awkward ride to school. Holt doesn’t have anything with him and his vehement refusal when asked if he wanted to go pick up anything from his house, followed up by a desperate request to not tell his mom he was there definitely raised a few red flags with his aunt and uncle, but they ultimately gave in and drove the two fire elemental boys to school.

“Have a good day!” Heath’s mom called out to them loudly from the car as she dropped them off. “I’ll pick you up at three!” 

Heath rushed away not looking back but Holt waved as she drove off. “Aunt Cindy is cool.”

“Not cool enough to get me condoms.” Heath grumbles.

Holt shrugs. “You’re like, sixteen though.”

“You’re fucking your _brother_.” Heath whispers harshly. 

Holt clamps a hand over his mouth, side eyeing monsters walking by. “Shhh!” Heath licks his hand and Holt recoils with a disgusted noise. “If you shut up, I’ll ask my mom for some.”

Heath nods excitedly. “Hell yeah!”

“Also I’m going to need to borrow a pencil. And a notebook. A calc-calculator?. . . what _is_ clawculus?” 

* * *

The hush that fell over the Advanced Biteology classroom when Holt walked in was deafening. 

“Yo!” Holt waves and smiles. “Jackie- ssson is uh, out of commission, heh. I’m takin’ his classes today.” 

_Why was Jackson taking so many classes dear lord-_

The reanimated corpse teaching the class, guts and bones out in the display for identification, gestures to the back of the room 

“Haha, thanks man.” Holt rolls his eyes as he shuffles past the lab tables and cabinets full of beakers and burners. He managed to scrape himself through Ancient Hisstory and Mad Science, but Clawclulus had thoroughly whooped his ass. What kind of sick, sadistic bastard decided they should let numbers in math?

“Psst!” A crumpled paper hits him on the head but when Holt turns, no one is looking at him. He shakes it off.

“ _Pssst!”_ He looks around again but still, nothing. He pulls out the only empty seat from one of the lab stations, but is unceremoniously shoved out of the way when on of the hellcat sisters- he thinks this one's Purrsephone?- takes his seat.

“Hey-“

“ _Hey, hothead!_ ” Holt looks up like to see the source of the voice is none other than Torelai, glaring at him. Her jade gaze flicks from him to the empty seat by her side, and then back at the front. 

Holt slides into the seat cautiously. “You’re in advanced bite-“

“Oh shut up.” Torelai whispers harshly. “Don’t look at me. I know Jackson’s not sick.”

Holt keeps his eyes on the front of the room, but his whole body tenses. “Oh yeah? How would you know that?” Whispering is hard on his throat, so unlike him. It’s hard to keep his voice quiet, especially when Torelai seems intent on getting a rise out of him.

Torelai tilts her head up, sniffing disinterestedly. “He would have texted me.”

Holt snorts. “What, you and Jackson are friends now?”

“Yes.” Holt can’t help but raise an eyebrow, turning to look at her. “I told you not to fucking-“

“Really?” Holt asks in disbelief. “You, queen bitch of the school-“

“I’m a _cat_ not a bitch-“

“Queen _cunt_ of the school, are friends with Jackson?”

“Wow you really must not think that highly of him, hmm?” Torelai glances in his direction, smugness written all over her features. “What, Jackie-boy can’t have any other friends but you?”

“Don’t call him that.” Holt’s grip on his (borrowed) pencil tightens, black singe marks threatening to eat through the wood. 

Torelai gives a single haughty laugh and her tail flicks Holt’s nose, only infuriating him further. “You’re so easy to read, _Holtsy_. You and Jackson both.” Holt bites at her tail, only catching air. It’s childish but he can’t help it. It only entertains Torelai more.

“Jackson’s a great guy Holt. Kind, earnest, smart, _attractive_.” Torelai sighs dreamily, mockingly. “But he’s a loner. A stray kitten~ Perfect fodder for me to pick up and mold.”

“Are you gettin’ at something, cause all I hear is a cat in heat.” Holt spits at her.

Torelai hisses back. “Despite my better judgement, I like Jackson-“

“He’s gay.” Holt shoots her down smugly.

“I _know that,_ asshole. And great job just outing your brother like that, bet he doesn’t care at all that you’re just spilling his deepest secrets to anyone that asks.” Torelai shrugs nonchalantly. 

The pencil falls onto the desk, burnt cleanly in two. “ _Fuck_ you.”

“Fuck you too. Now tell me what happened to Jackson.” 

Holt grinds his teeth. “He’s in the hospital.”

Torelai drums her fingers on the table, trying not to show any weak emotions like empathy. “That’s interesting.”

“Yeah, it sure is.” Holt says, smoke flaring from his nostrils. 

“How’d that happen?” Torelai snorts. “Tripped over his books? Manny finally get that last one in on him?” 

Holt kisses his teeth. “I sent ‘m there.” It doesn’t feel right to lie. He doesn’t have time to blink before he’s blinded by sharp pain searing across his face. He recoils instinctively, falling out of his seat with a crash and drawing the attention of everyone in the room. “What the-!”

All eyes turn to him and Torelai, delicately licking her paws clean while her lackeys cackle by her side. Holt wipes his face, and his hand comes away bloody. 

“Miss Stripe! Mr Hyde! To the headmistress’s office, now!”

“You tore up my fucking face!” Holt stumbles to his feet, already burning red hot. He slams a hand on the desk and it sinks straight through, the nasty smell of melted plastic filling the room. The smoky smell sets off the fire alarms, a loud wail echoing throughout the entire school.

“ _Great job hothead_ !” Torelai yells over the droning alarm. “Awww, what? Scared _Jackie_ won’t like you without a pretty face?”

That’s the final straw for Holt, already wound up and torn inside. He wouldn’t normally fight a girl but Torelai fights dirty anyway so he doesn’t feel bad when he jumps on her, skin burning bright.

Or at least he tries too. His arms are caught, held back by unfeeling, skinless hands. The bone hands of the teacher pull him back and he finds himself being thrown out of the classroom, Torelai walking out behind him. 

Holt shakes his hand wearily, boiling blood droplets falling to the floor. “You… would not _believe_ the last twenty four hours I’ve been through.” His head hits the floor with a thump as he collapses with a sigh. “Does _everyone_ fucking know?”

“About you two’s weird codependency schtick? Yeah.” Torelai shrugs, her hands on her hips. She stares him

down for a second before shaking her head. “I don’t usually… _do_ the caring about people thing? But like. You’re trying to take notes for Jackson even though you’re an idiot so. That probably means something. Or something.” She squats down by his side, tail flicking in amusement as he taps his forehead with a single finger. “You’re forgiven.”

“I hate you so fucking much.” Holt sighs deeply. 

“Aw. That’s so sweet.” Torelai says sarcastically before walking off, heels clacking down the hallway. “See ya in hell.”

“Bitch.”

* * *

Jackson wakes up in the middle of the day, spends a total of ten seconds to realize that no, Holt had not magically appeared on their room to comfort him, then covers his face with a pillow and screams. 

Alright. He’s given Holt enough time and space, now he was taking it into his own hands.

Well, hand.

Jackson’s a scientist at heart, born and bred to be the best. But there’s no equation for something as unpredictable as humanity, especially someone as… unique as Holt.

But if anyone could, the boy who shared a brain with him for eighteen years probably had a chance.

Going off of what the kind chimera nurse had told to him last night (morning? what time was it anyway?) Jackson first pulls up the bus schedule closest to the hospital. It’s a long route, the only public transportation around the majority of Old Salem, the monster's suburb. 

Jackson picks up a notebook and clicks a pen. If he could do anything, he could do this. It’s science, method of deduction and prediction. He copies the path down, marking certain locations as he goes. He knows the frightclubs Holt likes, but the haunted look of Holt’s face tells Jackson that being in public was the last thing Holt wanted.

Jackson sighs, swallowing down his guilt. Holt was out there, _somewhere_ , wandering the streets of Old Salem lost and burnt out. He puts his head in his hands and falls onto the desk with a ‘thunk’. 

“Ughhh.” Jackson groans. Usually working kept his mind busy, but he was too distracted. Holt had been too far away for too long, Jackson felt weaker the more distance between them. How funny now that the tables were turned, Jacksons life dependant on Holt and his presence. 

Jackson raises his head, propping his dirty glasses up on his head as he wipes his eyes. As he does his eyes narrow in on a spot on his map, slightly damp from his tears.

“Of _course_.” Jackson smacks himself on the forehead before heading downstairs, grabbing his keys and racing to the car.

* * *

Holt and Heath’s ride home is silent.

“Soooo, you got in a fight.” Heath’s mother looks at Holt in the rear view mirror.

“Uh-huh.” Holt nods, picking at the thin scratches on his face.

“Did’ja win?”

“...no.”

“Aw well! Let this be a lesson on fighting, kids! Don’t fight if you can’t win!”

Holt shares a look with Heath as they pull into the driveway, Heath just shrugging. 

“I broke your pencil.”

“Yeah I kinda expected it dude.”

Holt walks into the house behind Heath, so slouched over that he runs straight into Heath’s back when the other boy stops suddenly in front of him. “Dude, what’s up-“

It’s Heath’s mother that drops the bomb. “Oh, hello Jackson? Odd for you to be here.”

“Sorry, I don’t intend to stay long.” That’s no doubt Jackson’s voice and Holt freezes as well, eyes darting around the room.

“Back up back up _back up back up back up-!_ ” He whispers, using Heath as a shield to cover him as he beats a hasty (cowardly) retreat. 

“Oh Cindy, you won’t believe it!” Heath’s father slaps his knee with a hearty laugh. “Heath’s been gettin’ tutored by Jakeson here in secret!”

“It’s Jackson.”

“I’m _what_?” Heath jumps forward, leaving Holt exposed and defenseless. He catches Jackson's eyes for a split second but he can’t hold his gaze.

“Oh honey!” Their aunt gushes. “You don’t have to keep it a secret! We are so proud of you for trying so hard!”

“Sorry I came early today.” Jackson says with fake sincerity. “I needed to talk to Holt.”

All eyes turn to him then, fidgeting nervously in the doorway. “Nahhhh… I think we’re fine.”

“No, we’re not.”

“No one here wants to-“

“Holt.” Jackson’s jaw clenched from keeping up his fake smile. “Outside.”

He could probably make a run for it if he had too. “... okay.” Holt slowly edges out the door, fisting his hands deep in his pockets. Best to keep them there, no chance of making things worse.

Holt walks until they're well out of the way of any windows, hidden underneath the deck in the backyard. He doesn’t know what he’s expecting, a slap, a yell both maybe, but he’s still taken aback when Jackson rushes towards him and grabs him by the face, forcing their lips together in a heated kiss. A deep breath of relief rattles his entire chest and Holt can feel it echoing in his own, clenching his fists so hard his fingernails cut into his palms. He wants nothing more but to hold Jackson back but his _hands,_ he’d just scar Jackson more.

“ _Holt_.” All Jackson’s breath escapes with that one word, unable to get anything else out. Nothing else matters anyway. He holds Holt’s body close, burying his face in his brother's neck. “Holt.”

“‘Ey, Jackie.” Holt says roughly, his throat so tight every word hurts. “Guess you found me, eh?”

“Shut up.” Jackson shakes his head. His glasses are crushed between his face and Holt’s shoulder, the hard frames pressing into his face but he doesn’t care. Holt’s too warm, comfort radiating off of him and settling deep into Jackson’s bones. When he realizes Holt’s hands are still in his pockets his grip falls away and he steps back, confused and afraid. “I- I’m sorry… are… I’m sorry-“

“No! No, no.” Holt follows him, stepping in close. “Jackson I’m sorry, I’m a fucking idiot-“

“No, it was my fault.” Jackson wraps his arms around himself. Holt bites his cheek, knowing that that should be _him_. “If I wasn’t such a coward-“

“No, it’s because I’m selfish-“

“-just feel so _weak_ -“

“-unable to control myself-“

Jackson grabs Holt by the shoulders. “Holt, _no_. I’m not letting you keep doing this to yourself. It was my fault.”

“How?” Holt gives a raspy laugh. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Jackson bites his lip guiltily. “I did. I know your feelings and how… how _intense_ they get. I was just…” He ducks his chin into his chest, unable to keep eye contact any longer. “Just giving you another chance to get bored with me I guess.”

“Damnit Jackson.” Holt shakes his head, but his body relaxes in relief. “I’m not leaving you ever again. You’re stuck with me forever baby.”

There’s a small smile on Jackson’s face when he looks up at Holt again. “Okay. I believe you.”

Holt’s own smile falters. “I still hurt you.”

“You were upset. I pushed you too far.”

“I keep on hurting you.”

“I told you, I _want_ you too.”

Holt looks woefully at Jackson’s wrist, still wrapped in bandages. “It’s starting to scare me.”

Jackson’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and worry. “Why? Because of me? I told you, they’re easy enough to treat and-“

Holt swallows down his embarrassment. “I… I had a nightmare. That’s why I was trying to call you. It’s stupid. But you were hurt, you were so _burned_ and it was all my fault and you were _fine_ with it but I had- I had ruined you-“

Jackson’s eyes filled with what Holt misunderstood as pity, but now he recognized as compassion. “Holt. Holt. Look at me, I’m fine. A couple burns won’t hurt me.

“Not yet.” Holt says sarcastically.

Jackson sighs quietly and lets his head fall onto Holt’s chest softly. “Missed you.”

Holt is just able to press a weak kiss to Jackson's scalp. “Missed you too.”

Jackson punches him lightly in the arm, barely enough to register. “Then why’d you _leave_ , jerk. I have to _tutor Heath_ now.” 

“I don’t know.” Holt answers honestly. “I needed to get you away from me. For your sake.”

“Why don’t you ever _ask_ me before doing these things that drastically affect our relationship?” Jackson sighs and Holt can’t help but chuckle.

“I _really_ want to hold you right now.” He admits.

“You can. Please do actually. I feel like I’ve been stretched out all over town and physical contact seems to help.” The first part was true at least. Physical contact might not help the waning, fading feeling he was cursed with but being in his brother's arms would definitely make him feel better.

Holt sinks, focusing on something off in the distance. “I can’t Jackie.”

“Why not?” Jackson asks.

“Well you know, there’s the whole ‘I’m terrified of hurting you everytime I touch you’ thing’.”

Jackson groans. “Stop punishing yourself over nothing. It’s so unlike you.”

“Hey, maybe this is character development.” Holt shrugs. “Overcoming my urges and all that.”

“If anything this is character _undevelopment_.” Jackson grumbles. “Please touch me?”

Holt ignores the blood rushing under his skin. “Not until I know I can control myself.” 

“Oh god. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?”

Holt manages a laugh at that. “Can I come home now?”

“I never wanted you to leave.” Jackson mumbles into his chest. “We can do that thing where we watch the movie and listen to one of your albums at the same time.”

Holt presses his forehead to Jackson’s, their noses just barely touching. “I love you.” 

Jackson smiles. “I love you too.”

The fire in Holt’s heart ignites again.

“So are you going to tell me what happened to your face?”

“Nope.”

* * *

It’s hard to cuddle without touching. Holt excitedly draws comparisons between Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon” and the Wizard of Oz when played over the top of another, and Jackson rolls his eyes and snorts about coincidence everytime. 

He’s lying on Holt’s chest on their beds, pushed together on one side of the room now, head tucked under his chin. Holt’s hands itch at his sides but he contents himself with fidgeting with the hem of Jackson’s shirt, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. 

Jackson yawns as the credits roll and the music fades out. “It’s just synchronicity. You’d get the same experience watching any other movie.

“It’s a _masterpiece_.” Hold says on defense. “You just don’t understand it.”

“I guess I don’t.” Jackson shakes his head with a chuckle. There’s a beat of silence before he starts to move, cautiously kissing Holt’s throat.

“Mmm.” Holt keeps his eyes shut as Jackson shifts against him, on top of him. “Jackie, don’t do this to me baby.”

“I miss you.” Jackson breathes in Holt’s ear. “Holt, _please_.”

“Sorry Jackie.”

“T-then I’ll have to convince you.” Jackson tucks his face in the crook of Holt’s shoulder. “That was bad. This is embarrassing.”

“Aw, I think it’s cute.” Holt says with a laugh. Jackson doesn’t reply, just presses his lips to the corner of Holt’s mouth, trailing kisses down his jaw. “H-Hey, stop that now.”

“Guess you’ll have to stop me.” Jackson murmurs agsint Holt’s mouth. He kisses Holt slowly while his hands find their way under Holt’s shirt, resting on his bare skin. “Need you to keep me warm.”

“Watch it.” Holt says cautiously.

“You’re not _that_ hot.” Jackson rolls his eyes and sits up, resting on Holt’s lower legs. “Thermodynamiclly speaking.”

“Uh, thanks?” Holt asks.

Jackson flushes red, shifting his weight nervously. “I missed you Holt.” Holt opens his mouth, but his words die on his tongue when Jackson nervously fidgets with the zipper of his pants, pulling it down. “I r-really missed you.”

Holt sucks a breath in through his teeth. “ _Fuuck_ , Jackie.” His hands remain in fists at his sides, squeezing in an even rhythm to distract him. 

Jackson’s nimble fingers skim over the front of his boxers, teasing the quickly growing bulge there. Holt moans, raising his hips up to Jackson’s touch but Jackson pulls away. “No touching, remember?”

“You’re killin’ me.” Holt moans. “So cruel Jackie. You’re even worse than a monster.”

Jackson laughs, just a bit guilty. “Okay uh, so this parts going to be _really_ unsexy but I can’t think of any other way, so.” He shifts to the other side of the bed and awkwardly shuffles off his clothes, kicking them off in the floor before nervously climbing back into Holt’s lap. His cock is half hard already, flushed pink between his pale thighs. 

Holt can’t help but smirk. “Cute.”

“Oh shut up.” Jackson’s face turns even redder, flushing down his neck and chest. Holt loves the sight of his brother, hot and bothered in his lap. 

“Pretty boy.” Holt says teasingly. “Don’t even have to touch you to get you wet for me, huh!”

Embarrassment floods Jackson features, but hirts doesn’t deny it. “Holt, I want you to fuck me.”

Holt’s leg jerks in surprise, knocking Jackson off balance. He falls with a shocked noise and Holt immediately rises to help him. “Sorry! Sorry I just-“

“You could have just said no-“ Jackson mumbles, covering his red face with his hands.

“No- I mean yes- I mean _fuck_ Jackson of course I do are you kidding me-“ Holt waves his arms wildly, unable to properly vocalize his thoughts. “I just…”

Jackson grabs one of his flailing hands by the wrist. “Holt, do you trust me?”

“Of course I do.” Holt says warily. “Unless you’re about to do something _stupid_ -“

Jackson leads Holt’s arm and places the palm of his hand right against his chest. Holt recoils, but Jackson only tightens his grip. For seconds that seem to last eternities he’s terrified, breath caught in his throat as he waits for Jackson to go up in flames. But nothing happens, and all Holt can feel is a gentle thump in his brothers chest that he recognizes is his heartbeat. When Holt’s breath evens out Jackson lets his harsh grip loosen, but Holt doesn’t pull away.

“That was stupid.” Holt breathes out. 

“It was necessary.” Jackson says, very matter-of-factly.

“That could have ended _very_ badly.”

“Anything _could_ happen. But it didn’t, because you don’t _want_ to hurt me Holt. I _know_ you. And I feel safe with you.” Jackson looks more embarrassed then he did with his dick out. “You’re my other half, I need you.”

Holt’s never been harder in his life. “Fuckin’ hell Jackie.” He breathes out heavily. “Holy shit. I’m gonna fuck you so good baby, gonna prove I’m worth it, make you mine again baby-“ He finally gives in, grabbing Jackson’s hips and pulling him in for a rough kiss. It hasn’t been more than a day, but Jackson’s skin under his sends fire racing through his veins- a good fire, a fire he can control. 

Jackson moans into his mouth, equally excited to feel his brothers touch again. “You- you were really going to take this away from me-?”

“Sorry.” Holt pants. “It hurts me more than you and all that.”

“Beg to differ.” Jackson says. “Holt…”

“Yeah baby?”

Jackson focuses on a spot right behind Holt’s head. “Do you… _ahem_ , do you have any, uh, lubricant?”

It’s right then Holt remembers the cursed mom gift, buried under his underwear in his dresser so he never had to think about it. Well now he was thinking about it. 

Uh yeah, yeah I do.” He clears his throat. “Lemme just…” He moves from the bed and takes the opportunity to shrug off his pants and jacket, because if they were going to do it they were both going to be naked goddamnit. 

“So, uh.” Holt stammers. “Funny story.”

“Hm?”

Holt thinks it over for a second. “Y’know what? I’ll tell you later.” He has to tell Jackson _sometime_ , but not when he was about to get laid. Moving back to the bed, where Jackson is waiting all open and inviting, Holt manages to keep his calm face while his mind goes into overdrive. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, as usual. All his knowledge and experience with girls was useless in the presence of his brother who 1. Holt actually cared about and 2. Had a dick like him. He settles for just tossing the lube at Jackson, hoping he knows what to do. “Here you go.” 

“Seductive.” Jackson rolls his eyes as the small bottle bounces off his stomach. He picks it up to

read the label, skimming over the packaging as he pops open the bottle and liberally coats his fingers with the lube, touching his fingers together to test the consistency. “Hey, this stuff is a superabsorbent polymer!” 

“Uh-huh. You’re so cute when I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Holt tears the speciality condom open with his teeth, spitting the wrapper on the floor.

“That means it’s a flame retardant, jackass.” Jackson explains. Holt opens his mouth to make a probably offensive joke but his mouth goes dry as 

Jackson leans back looking off to the side in embarrassment as he raises his hips up off the bed, following the familiar motions of reaching around to his ass, circling one, two fingers around his hole before fingering himself open for his brother's cock.

“You do this a lot?” Holt asks in a raspy voice. He has his own covered cock in his hand, pumping slowly as Jackson fingerfucks himself. 

“Maybe.” Jackson mumbles back. He shivers under his brother's attention, a thrill going up his spine. A second finger goes in easily, followed by a third. It’s a little too much too fast, but he’s eager and he doesn’t mind the pain that comes with the stretch. 

“Lookit you. Cumming on your fingers just like a girl.” Holt’s voice is equal parts affectionate and mocking, just how his brother likes it. “You wanna be my girl Jackie?”

Jackson finally turns to face him, biting his lip and looking up with soft, hooded eyes. “I’m your wife already, right?”

He’s teary eyed and beautiful and Holt squeezes the base of his cock to keep from cumming right there. “Fuck yeah you are. Get over here.” He grabs Jackson’s legs, folding them around his waist as he pulls Jackson forward. The tip of his cock just barely presses against Jackson’s hole and both brothers shiver.

Holt looks at Jackson, eyes pleading for permission. Jackson nods back fervently, no words needed.

Holt takes a deep breath before pushing forward slowly, moaning out at the tightness of his brother's body. “ _Fuck_.” Holt isn’t even halfway in yet and Jackson’s shaking around him, keening softly. “Jackie, you’re so tight baby- feels so good-“

“ _Hot_.” Jackson’s babbling, unable to stop talking even during this. “So hot- b-burning me up- don’t stop Holt oh my God y-you’re inside me this is really happening-“ his hands flutter around his face, trying to fix his glasses or cover his face.

“Fuck yeah it is. So pretty with my cock inside you baby.” Holt hisses through his teeth as he presses in further, not stopping until their hips meet. “Takin’ me so well, you were made for me Jackie-“

“Fuck me fuck me _fuck me fuckmefuckme_ -“ Jackson doesn’t wait for their bodies to adjust, already trying to pull Holt in deeper. “Need you, please please _please_ -“

“God you’re so fucking hot when you beg for it.” Holt pants. How can he deny such a pretty thing? He pulls out until just the head of his cock is inside and then pushes in in one harsh thrust, hard enough to send Jackson back with the movement. Jackson’s hands scramble for traction on Holt’s shoulders, crying out as Holt finally gives in and fucks him for real. Holt’s hips snap up against his ass in perfect rhythm and Jackson thinks wildly that that must be one of the benefits of fucking a DJ. 

Jackson sobs at the overwhelming pleasure, tears rushing down his face and blurring his vision. He was on fire, burning up from the inside out as Holt wrecked him, _ruined_ him. And it was wonderful, the scorch inside of him. This was it, this was the best way to show Holt he wasn’t scared of his power- to let his brother set him alight. He’s obsessed with the burn of his brother, the proof of his inhumanity. Holt was a monster and Jackson knew it, loved it.

If Holt was made of fire, Jackson was made to burn.

One day he might tell him that, but for now his speech was limited to profanities and pleads that would make the sauciest succubus blush.

“ _Holt_ \- your _cock_ , it’s- it’s- god, you’re fucking me so good I love you I love you, make me your _wife_ I wanna be your girl-“ Holt has his hands pressed into the mattress, fingers interlocked, holding hands while he was thoroughly wrecked. 

“Already are, baby.” Holt smirks down at him. His eyes are glowing, sending a warm orange light over Jackson’s body. “Been mine since we were born.”

“Y-yeah, I’m yours.” Jackson nods shakily. “A-and you?”

“I’m all yours.” Holt kisses him then, and Jackson cries into his mouth. Their bodies were joined in the most carnal way, blurring together at the edges. Their thoughts were in the others head, the sensations shared between each other’s touch until they were one again.

Jackson cums first, untouched and overwhelmed at the waves of emotions and pure pleasure coursing through him. Holt follows soon after, biting down harshly on Jackson’s shoulder in instinct as his orgasm rips through him. 

The brothers lie there in their afterglow, Jackson quivering from overstimulation and Holt huffing through his nose as he lathers his tongue over the new bite mark on his brother's shoulder. Jackson doesn’t even acknowledge the pain, shakily petting his brothers flaming hair as Holt marks him again. He passes out from pain and exhaustion before Holt lets go, the blue boy looking down at his other half’s unconscious body.

It’s muscle memory peeling off and tying the condom, tossing it into the trash and completely missing before collapsing down next to Jackson. Holt pulls him on close, kissing him softly over his new burn. “Love you Jackie.”

Holt doesn’t fall asleep for a while, instead resting his head on Jackson’s chest. He just needed that resolution, a constant reminder that Jackson was okay beside him. 

He doesn’t remember falling asleep but when he does his sleep is uninterrupted by any dreams, just vague fuzzy shapes in yellow and blue.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember how I said this would be the last chapter well I LIED 
> 
> it was originally going to be a really long chapter to make up for the wait but ba boom apparently I have a three page essay due tonight (that I haven’t started on orz) but I want to UPDATE BECAUSE YOU GUYS DESERVE IT!!!!
> 
> at least one more chapter hehe :3c !! thanks for sticking with me lovelies <33
> 
> -jackson and torelai going to prom together is actually canon! 2014 night in scaridise, jackson was SUPER sweet to torelai even though she was her usual self and so I totally hc them as besties
> 
> -heaths moms name is cindy like cinder and his dads is cole like coal
> 
> -jackson is a whore 
> 
> -jackson being nb is canon actually 
> 
> -that’s it that’s all i have to say


	7. take me as I am

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jackson gets a turn on the flashback train
> 
> this is an absolute DOOZY of a chapter but a fitting end for these boys ;-; and easily the smuttiest chapter yet. they cannot keep their hands off each other.
> 
> warnings for this chapter: needles, a singular microaggression but it is heavily implied that he dies, jacksons constant anxiety and holt. just holt.

_ The first thing Jackson notices is the chill, cutting deep to his bones like he’s been submerged in ice cold water. _

_ He shivers instinctively, curling up into himself to conserve body heat. “C-cold.” He stutters out. There’s noises of people around him moving about but he can’t open his eyes because surely they’d freeze. “Cold, I-I’m so cold…” _

_ The next time Jackson drifts into consciousness it’s because it feels like he’s been buried under solid concrete. It’s a struggle to move his head to look around and he cracks an eye open to look at his unfamiliar surroundings.  _

_ He’s in a hospital room? And buried under an absolute mountain of blankets, weighted and heated and thicker than any ones he’s ever seen. He pulls his hands free to push them off only to find his hands are covered in a pair of those nice hospital socks.  _

_ There’s even a hat on his head. What the hell. _

_ Jackson kicks the heap of blankets away, only stopped by the sudden sting of pain as he shifts with the IV tugging at his arm. His memories drift back to him slowly then, eyebrows furrowing in irritation. _

_ Holt. That goddamn loud, obnoxious, crude, rude, conceited- _

_ He had no idea whether or not Holt was okay. The thought terrified him. _

_ Jackson squinted around looking for his glasses but it was a lost cause and he fell back into his cot with a huff. Nerves crawled up his spine. His serum had been perfect- of course it was, everything he did was perfect- so what had gone wrong? All he remembers is pain, red hot and boiling his brain in his skull before blissful darkness. _

_ The ghost of his grandfather sneers in his brain about the fundamental rules of science, laws that should not be tampered with, and curses that cannot be undone.  _

Shut up _. Jackson says to himself.  _ This is your fault anyway.

_ Jackson clenches his eyes shut again, hoping for a few more minutes of wonderful unconsciousness but is woefully interrupted by the door slamming open loudly, surprising him back up. _

_ His vision is shit. Always has been- Holt got to have that too, the asshole- so all he sees is blue and red rushing towards him. _

_ “Jackie!” _

_ There’s another voice admonishing him- their mother probably- but Jackson’s unable to speak as Holt wraps his arms around him in a hug. _

_ His brother is so warm. “You’re okay? It worked?” _

_ “Yes holy fuck Jackie I am SO sorry I didn’t know that would happen to you! You were right of course you’re always right you got the brains and everythin’ but I shoulda listened-“ _

_ Jackson bursts out into laughter, shocking Holt speechless. “It worked! It worked!” _

_ Holt chuckles too. “Yeah. Course it did.” When Holt steps back Jackson is breathless, rubbing at his eyes and squinting at the blurry edges of his form. “Oh yeah heh, you probably need these. Sorry I think I uh, stepped on ‘em.” _

_ Jackson blinks his eyes slowly as Holt places his glasses on his face with a delicateness he would never have expected. The frame is broken and a lens is cracked, glass splintering his vision but- for the first time- his brother's face is clear. _

_ “Hi.” Jackson holds out his hand dumbly. “I’m Jackson Jekyll.” _

_ Holt’s face lights up even brighter if that was possible. “Holt Hyde. Pleased to meetcha’.” _

* * *

Jackson wakes up first, eyelids fluttering open in the morning light of their room. Holt has an arm wrapped around him, arm bent at an angle that’s sure to ache when he wakes up. Jackson runs his hands over the sheets to find his glasses, lost sometime during the night. He sits up when he finds them, pushing them onto his face as he wipes the sleep from his eyes.

Jackson looks over at Holt, face heating up in embarrassment as memories from last night come flooding back. He felt thoroughly wrecked, like his insides had been rearranged for Holt to make room for himself. It was almost romantic, in a strange, nonsensical way. It had been his first time of course, but he already felt the urge to have Holt again.

Oh God. This was going to become a problem, wasn’t it?

The annoying chime of his alarm doesn’t give up and Jackson finally tears his eyes away from his brother's sleeping form, glaring at the interrupting device. Phone. School. Work.

He looks back at Holt.

He turns the alarm off.

Jackson bites his lips as his gaze wanders over his brother's body. He was allowed to look, right? Holt was so open in his sleep, mouth slightly open as his chest rose and fell in a perfect rhythm. He didn’t look bothered by the alarm at all, still in a deep sleep.

Jackson let’s his eyes trail down his brother’s body, face heating as he does. They were supposed to be identical, but it grew more obvious every day that they were growing apart. Holt was all lean muscle, sculpted from long nights of dancing and sex while Jackson had only grown more frail. He had soft skin and delicate bone structure: it wasn’t surprising how often he was mistaken for a girl.

Not that he minded. 

Jackson likes looking at Holt. His eyes devoured every inch of skin, cataloguing all the shades of blue. The outline of his brother's cock is visible through his sheets and Jackson feels his own stirring to life. The old memory of waking up to Holt’s hot breath in his ear, thrusting between his thighs was at the forefront of his mind as he peeled the blanket down, exposing Holt’s lower half.

Being used in his sleep was exhilarating, it was only fair if Holt got to experience it too right?

Jackson takes Holt’s soft cock in his shaking hand, pumping him slowly. It reacts to his touch even as Holt doesn’t stir, thickening with blood. Jackson watches fascinated as it grows in front of him, precum leaking from the dark purple head. When Jackson deems him hard enough he gulps down his nerves and takes the flushed head into his mouth, sucking him softly.

Holt doesn’t stir, the only evidence of Jackson’s actions in the rising on his breath. Jackson bobs his head, shifting his hips against the mattress as he does. He’s grown almost addicted to the feeling of Holt’s cock in his mouth, losing himself in the weight of it on his tongue and the taste down his throat.

Jackson likes it best when Holt would fuck his face roughly; forcing his cock deep down Jackson’s throat only pulling out to cum on his glasses or chest- his tits, Holt would call them.

Jackson didn’t mind the feminine language Holt would use with him sometimes. Rather, he actually enjoyed it. Like a  _ lot _ . It put him off at first, thinking that Holt was pretending he was a girl for his own sake of mind, but Holt quickly set him straight. If they were truly opposites, then he was  _ Holt’s _ girl.

Jackson pulls off of Holt’s cock and presses a sloppy kiss to the top of his flushed head. With mixed excitement and nerves Jackson straddles his brother's waist and lines his now hard cock up with his hole. He’s still stretched and lubed from last night, nowhere near as thoroughly as he should be but he can’t bring himself to care. He wants Holt’s cock in him again.

He sinks down with a soft moan, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out in pleasure. He’s loud in bed, which Holt constantly teases him for, but he can’t help himself from babbling about how good it felt to be pinned down and touched, forced over the edge over and over…

Jackson settles for whining softly, both out of pain and pleasure. Holt’s body was heating up as he woke, and without that magical condom he had used last night Jackson had to keep moving to make sure the burn wasn’t focused on one place for too long.

Holt begins to stir underneath him and Jackson begins to move for real, raising his hips up and down and fucking himself open. He throws his head back and gasps, mumbling softly under his breath. Heat radiates through his body like the pleasant burn of alcohol in his stomach and he moans at the feeling.

Holt finally wakes up, hands instinctively grabbing the waist of the body on top of him. He only opens his eyes when he realizes it’s Jackson’s sweet moans in ear, greeted by the wonderful sight of his brother bouncing on his lap. His face is flushed and his hands are on either side of Holt’s own hips, keeping his balance as he fucks himself on his brother's cock. When their gazes finally meet Jackson smiles shakily, glasses askew. “Good- good morning.”

A salacious grin spreads across Holt’s face and he drops his hands from his brother's waist, instead folding them behind his head. “It certainly is.”

“How- how was your sleep?” Jackson pants. He can feel the throb of Holt’s cock inside of him, impaling him.

Holt shakes. “You know? Can’t remember.” Jackson’s bearing down on him so good, so right that Holt can barely catch his breath. 

“That’s a- a shame.” Jackson keens as he bottoms out, grinding in small circles on Holt’s lap. “Oh my God-“

“I  _ do _ remember something before falling asleep though.” Holt muses. “Somthin’ bout a needy whore crying on my cock.”

Jackson doesn’t respond, too distracted in grabbing his own ankles for a better angle to fuck himself on. “ _ Ah, oh, ah, ah _ -“

“Yeah, just like that.” Holt rasps. His fingers itch to dig into Jackson’s sides, but watching him do all the work was a sight to behold. He kept his hands tucked tightly behind his head to keep them in place as his eyes devoured Jackson greedily. His brother was all marked up by him, beautiful and ruined. The handprint on his hip was Holt’s favorite by far, healed to a lovely pink against his pain skin. The small heated hickey on his neck was a wonderful match to his newest mark, Holt’s biting claim on his opposite shoulder. 

And his wrist. Holt feels a pang of guilt but he forces himself to look at the burn. It’s hard to view it in a negative light this morning though, not when Jackson was so eager to press their bodies as close as possible.

“Couldn’t wait.” Jackson moans. “Needed it.”

“I could get used to this kinda wake up call, Jackie-boy.” Holt says in a deep voice. “Damn, I knew you were a slut but this desperate? You keep on surprisin’ me.”

Jackson whines out, hips stuttering. His own cock was pathetically hard between his legs, weeping as he bounced up and down. He was still so sensitive, if he reached down to touch himself he would surely cum within a few strokes. 

But he didn’t want to. It was so much better being forced over the edge by Holt’s cock, filling him with his heat as he uses Jackson’s body for his own pleasure.

“Cum- cum inside me.” Jackson gasps out the mortifying words. “P-please.” That would be the nail in his coffin, truly no going back for either of them after Holt’s claimed him from the inside too. And he needs it, aches to be filled and owned completely by his brother.

Holt snaps his hips up with a growl, finally reaching out and grabbing at Jackson’s thin hips. “ _ Fuck _ , Jackson you’re  _ perfect _ -“

“ _ AH _ ! Oh  _ fuck, _ please Holt!” Jackson cries. He’s still sore and every thrust inside of him sets his nerves on edge, mixing with the pleasure until his senses were overwhelmed. When he finally cums his vision goes white and he collapses onto Holt’s waist, still jerking from the aftershocks.

Holt can’t help but dig his fingers into Jackson’s sides when his brother stops moving. “Come on Jackie, givin’ out on me? Be a good fuckdoll now.”

Jackson shakes his head tearfully and raises his hips again, entire body shaking from overstimulation as he moves up and down, up and down…

Holt rubbed circles into Jackson’s hip bones as he began to move again. Jackson’s moving painfully slow, obviously exhausted but still desperate to give Holt the pleasure he asked for. Jackson finally meets his eyes, eyes wet with tears looking absolutely, completely fucked out and that’s what pushes Holt over the edge. 

Jackson’s eyes go wide in shock as he feels Holt’s cum flood inside of him. It’s pure fire filling him up, burning him from the inside out and he screams out in ecstasy and torment as he’s overwhelmed by a second consecutive orgasm, his tender, overworked cock twitching wildly between his legs as he collapses from the overstimulation

Holt’s right behind him as usual. “Shit, shit- are you okay?”

“Do you cum fucking _ lava?!” _ Jackson hisses, curling up in pain. He can feel Holt’s cum leaking out of him, burning his sensitive rim. This was a bad idea. He’s never doing this kind of surprise shit again.

“I told you we have to use the special shit!” Holt berates him. “Did you use any lube at  _ all _ ?” Holt picks him up easily, carrying him to the bathroom.

“N-not really…” Jackson admits, wrapping his arms around Holt’s neck. “I wasn’t really thinking straight.”

Holt shakes his head. “Nah, you were thinkin pretty gay.”

Jackson weakly punches him in the arm. “Screw you.”

“I already screwed  _ you _ .” Holt snorts. He backs up through the door to the bathroom. He plucks Jackson’s glasses off before setting Jackson down gently in the tub and turning the shower on.

Jackson looks up at him unimpressed as the shower pelts him with warm water. “Get in.” Holt kisses his teeth but gives in, slumping right against Jackson on the floor of the tub. They sit on the floor together for a minute, heads resting against each other before Jackson stands up wobbily. He grabs the shampoo before sinking back down, resting Holt’s head on his lap and lathering the shampoo in his hair wordlessly.

“I’m’n love with you.” Holt mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“No I’m like,  _ in _ love with you.” Being in the water is too draining for him to string words together. “Love music. Love mom.  _ In _ love you.”

Jackson smiles giddily where Holt can’t see. “I in love you too.”

“Good.” Holt’s heavy eyelids fall closed. Jackson’s fingers in his hair were calming, stroking his scalp. “Don’t know what’id do otherwise.”

“Mmmhmm.” Jackson washes the suds out of his hair. “I feel the same.”

Words become too much effort for the fire elemental and he rests his head on Jackson’s thigh, breathing steadily as he washes him down. It’s almost like a half-sleep, only registering soft touches and an overwhelming sense of comfort.

Holt cracks an eye open at the sound of the faucet creaking, his face no longer being pelted by water droplets. “C’mon, let’s get out big guy.” Jackson shakes his arm, gripping him by the shoulders to lift him up.

“We’re the same size.” Holt grumbles. “Unless of course you’re referring to my massive dick.” Jackson drops his arms, leaving Holt boneless on the floor. “ _ Ow _ .”

Jackson’s only response is to throw a towel at him. “Dry yourself off.”

“C’mon Jackie I’m sorry, don’t leave me here.” Holt whines. “It’s all wet ‘n gross.”

“Oh my god.” Jackson sighs. “Alright, come on.” Holt holds his arms up weakly, letting Jackson pull him up to his feet. “You’re ridiculous.” Holt presses a kiss to Jackson’s cheek. “Guess I’m stuck with you though.”

“Forever and ever and ever and ever…” Holt trails off as he flops onto the bed. “Hey, if I fall asleep again will you start suckin’ my dick?”

Jackson snorts. “I’ll let you get some sleep this time.”

Holt yawns and let’s his face hit the mattress. And then jerks up again. “Wait, isn’t it like, Thursday?”

“Mmhm.” Jackson nods, looking at himself in the mirror.

“And… you’re  _ not  _ going to make me get ready for school?”

Holt can see Jackson’s reflection blush. “I was thinking we could take a day off. Maybe go on a d-date…”

Holt looks at his brother in wonder. Confident enough to ride him in his sleep, but still too nervous to ask him on a date.

God  _ damn  _ he loves this boy.

“Our first date.” Holt chuckles. “A little overdue, huh?”

“Y-yeah… I mean, only if you want to though, I-I was just thinking… there’s a mall over in the next town, no one would know us. It'd be a good place to start, just to try it out.”

Holt smiles widely. “Of course I wanna take you out, baby.” 

Jackson smiles shyly. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Holt nods. “Now just wait for me to dry out.”

* * *

“Alright, you’re driving us.” Jackson tosses the keys in his direction and Holt catches them out of instinct.

“Uh, no way.” Holt shakes his head. “Didn't I, like, almost kill us last time?”

“Almost.” Jackson points out. “But you don’t get better without practice!” 

Holt hands the keys back. “Uh, no.”

“You did a good job taking me to the hospital.” Jackson pushes the keys back to his chest. “I think you can do it.”

Jackson’s confidence in him sends his heart hammering in his chest. “If we die it’s on you.”

“We have insurance.” Jackson shrugs. “Come on.”

Jackson climbs into the passenger's side door, leaving Holt holding the keys like an idiot. He takes a deep breath before opening his own door, sliding in next to Jackson who has an honest-to-God paper map spread out.

“Oh hell no.” Holt shakes his head. “Don’t you have Boogle Maps?”

Jackson looks at him, disbelief and horror on his face.

“You call it fucking  _ Boogle _ ?”

* * *

Holt’s hands have an iron grip on the steering wheel as he parks the car, crawling to a stop. 

“Okay.” Jackson says breathlessly, staring out the front windshield. “You handled the, um, turning well?”

“That’s good.” Holt nods, also staring out the front. 

“You should go over uh, stop signs. And lights.” 

“I think I’m colorblind.”

“There’s no need for excuses, love.” Holt’s legs are a little shaky as he climbs out of the car, but he stands up straight when Jackson comes around to take his arm. “Are you ready?”

Holt smiles back at him dumbly. “Yeah. You look nice.”

Jackson gives a little laugh. “You don’t look too bad yourself there.”

Holt wasn’t dressed as flashily as he usually was, but standing out was the opposite of what they were trying to do. He takes Jackson’s hands in his own and squeezes. “Can I kiss you?”

He’ll never get enough of that soft pink blush. Jackson looks around nervously for a second, but grounds himself by squeezing Holt’s hands back. “Yeah. Yeah I think so.”

“Okay.” Holt smiles brightly. “Maybe not in the parking lot.”

Jackson laughs at that. “Yeah, you’re right.” He keeps his fingers entwined with Holt’s as he pulls away, still nervous but eagar. “Let’s go.”

Holt can only follow, swinging their joined hands as they walk next to each other. “So, whaddya wanna do babe?”

“I have an idea.” Jackson says cryptically. “I think you’ll like it. I just need to buy some tools.”

Holt whistles lowly. “Damn Jackie, we just started sleeping together and you already wanna start using toys? Wild.”

Jackson drops his hand and walks on ahead.

“Jackie- Jackson I was kidding c’mon baby, you know me-“

“You’re terrible.” Jackson stops with a sigh, shaking his head but Holt can see the smile he’s trying to suppress. He presses himself close to Holt’s side, until his mouth is level with Holt’s ear. “Besides, if I wanted to use toys I wouldn’t need to buy any.”

It takes a few seconds for Jackson’s meaning to click in Holt’s head. 

“Holy fuck.” Holt rubs at the back of his head, a dumbstruck smile on his face. “Damn. Fuck dude. How am I supposed to respond to that?” Jackson just shrugs, burying his red face in Holt’s shoulder. “Can I like. Watch-“

He’s interrupted by somebody bumping into the two of them, nearly sending them sprawling to the ground. Holt just barely manages to catch Jackson in time and he snaps his head up to glare at the perpetrator. “ _ Hey _ asshole-!”

“Don’t you have a graveyard to haunt, monster freak?” The asshole drawls at him, sneering in his direction. “Take your creep-kink boyfriend with you. Fucking monster-fuckers.”

Holt’s never gone up so quickly, flames jumping off his body as he lunges for the jerk that had dared to touch Jackson, hurt Jackson, insult Jackson-

“Holt.” Jackson holds him back. “You promised you wouldn’t do this.” He forces himself to cool off, flames dying down to nothing but smoke. “He’s not worth it.”

“That’s right.” The asshole snorts back. “Listen to your boyfriend, you flame headed-“ He spits out a slur then and Holt can  _ feel  _ Jackson’s rage peak beside him. He wants to lunge forward to take the guy down for just that- but Jackson’s grip on him only gets stronger.

“Freaks like you should stay with your kind.” The bigot says to Holt. “And you. Traitor to the whole human race.” He spits in their direction and finally leaves, his street preaching seemingly done.

Holt turns on Jackson the minute they're alone. “Why didn’t you let me-“

Jackson just grabs his hands, grounding him the best way he knows how. “I’m not letting you get sent to prison Holt. Besides….” he smiles sweetly. “Let’s just fuck up his car.”

Holt blinks for a beat and then laughs loudly, echoing off the cars around them. “God damn. I knew I loved you for a reason.”

“Yes, my mad scientist mind of course.” Jackson says smugly. “Can you imagine how upset he would have been if he knew we were brothers?”

“Holy shit you’re right!” Holt takes his brothers hands, eyes wide in excitement. “We should say that next time! I mean, hopefully that never happens again but if it does we should totally say that!”

“Glad to see you bounce back so quickly.”

“Anything’s possible when you’re around Jackie. Now let’s go cut this fucker's breaks.”

Jackson laughs at that, settling Holt’s nerves. He was rightly terrified- not about that asshole, who gives a fuck about him- but about Jackson’s reaction. He knew his brother was already anxious about what people thought about him, about them, and this shitty opening to their first date had his stomach tied up in knots.

He has the keys halfway dug into the side of the car when he looks back at Jackson, making an effort to keep his voice steady. “You okay Jackie?”

Jackson is messing with the various fluids under the hood. “Besides the fact that we’re committing a crime, yes. Why do you ask?”

“Well you know, most people are cool with the whole. Monster-normie relations thing.” Holt scrambles for words. “It’s a new world out there, y’know. People like him are out of style.”

Jackson pops out from under the hood of the car. Gentle surprise is written all over his face. “I’m… I’m fine? I mean, I don’t care about that guy’s opinion. He’s an asshole, and I know that. He doesn’t matter.”

Holt turns his head to hide his smile. “Exactly.”

* * *

The place Jackson leads them too is definitely more Holt’s speed, rank with the smell of marijuana accompanied by plenty of drug paraphernalia. 

“Are you buying weed? Because I’m down of course but like- I think I’d be unbearable to be honest. Plus I’m like a walking hotbox-“

“Holt.” Jackson looks at him with earnest, patient eyes. “Go down and buy some pretzels from down the way, okay?”

Holt takes the wallet with glee. “Of course!” He had seen that pretzel stand from a mile away. 

He spends Jackson’s hard earned money on a salted pretzel, two servings of cinnamon bites, and something called a pretzel dog. Normie food was so interesting, no bat wings or boiled lizards or anything! Apparently a ‘hot dog’ didn’t even have any dog parts in it at all! 

Holt hums to himself happily as he walks back to Jackson. He’s been thinking about writing a song about him, but gets lost on the lyrics just being lewd praises of Jackson’s body or incredibly lame declarations of  undying, homosexual, incestuous love.

So it’s still a work in progress.

Their date had been going  _ amazing  _ so far. Despite the unfortunate beginning, the rest of the mall was busy and mostly uncaring about the young couple. Jackson had even let Holt kiss him! In public!

So he might have told a mall cop that he saw a guy fitting the assholes description selling drugs to kids in the parking lot, but he’s like thirty percent sure Jackson  _ actually _ did cut the guys breaklines so they’re even.

He’s halfway through one of the cups of cinnamon bites when he sees  _ it _ . It’s just a mannequin in a shop window, but the outfit- no, the  _ ensemble _ is what stops Holt in his tracks.

The outfit consists of an orange sweater with a wide neckline, paired with a pale yellow skirt. Holt does a double take to make sure Jackson hasn’t shown up out of nowhere, and when the coast is clear he books it across the pathway into the store. 

The skirt has a transparent layer on top embroidered with flowers, daffodils and daisies. It’s perfect, delicate and simple but undeniably gorgeous.

Holt can see clearly in his mind's eye how it would look on Jackson. The hem of the embroidery would sway around Jackson’s legs, drawing attention to his thin waist. The sweater would show off his collarbones perfectly exposing the marks Holt loved to leave there, his claims of ownership exposed to the whole world. 

He needs it. Jackson needs it. 

He’s shaken out of his trance when a worker approaches him, telling him that they do not allow food in the store. Holt just nods dumbly, shovels the rest of his cinnamon bites in his mouth, and rushes back to the store he had left Jackson in. Thankfully he’s just waiting outside holding a small bag and he waves when he sees Holt. “There you are!”

Holt shoves the other cup full of cinnamon bites into his hand and bites a chunk out of his own pretzel, swallowing the dry bread quickly. “Eat it, eat it, hurry up I gotta show you something-“ 

“What?” Jackson says in surprise. Holt demolishes his pretzel dog in two bites and throws the rest of the pretzel away, deeming it too dry to eat quickly.

“Did you just-?”

“Okay just hide those in your bag now baby, come on now, sweet thing-“ Holt grabs his hand and pulls him away, nearly dragging him down the hall to the store he had seen earlier. 

“Holt- Holt this is a  _ women’s clothing store _ -“

“Yep!” Holt comes to a sudden stop in front of the same assistant he had been approached by before. “Hey, can we get a changing room for my girl here?”

Holt considers them from an outsider's perspective for a second. Obvious monster boy with his vaguely andyronous human partner, both out of breath, with him excited out of his mind and Jackson looking absolutely mortified.

The assistant snaps her gum. “Name?”

“Jackie!” Holt says eagerly, pushing Jackson into the room before the poor worker could even uncap her marker. “Okay, you stay in there sweetie! I’ll be right back!”

“ _ Holt _ .” Jackson’s voice rises in anger but Holt can barely hear it as he dashes away. He’s absolutely giddy as he grabs the sweater and skirt he had seen earlier, bouncing on the balls of his feet back to the changing rooms. 

“Put these on, okay?” He throws the hangers over the top of the door, Jackson snatching them on his side. 

“ _ Holt _ .” Jackson hisses through the door. “Holt I can’t wear this-“

“Yes you can.” Holt whispers back. “Please please  _ please  _ baby, I need to see you I had a vision from Zombie Jesus himself-“

“Oh my god.” Jackson seethes on the other side of the door, but Holt hears the ruffling of clothes so he fist pumps in victory. He waits patiently as Jackson changes. Or as patiently as he could, foot tapping so fast he’s a little worried he might burn a hole in the carpet. 

The rustling stops. Holt waits with bated breath, heartbeat drumming in his ears. “Jackson?”

“Shut up.” Jackson says quickly. “I- I’m looking-“ 

A wide smile splits Holt’s face and he rests his cheek against the door. “How do you look, baby?”

Jackson doesn’t reply verbally, instead Holt hears the door latch unlock. He jumps in immediately, pulling the door closed and locking it.

Jackson is an absolute vision before him. He has his hands fisted in the skirt, raising it in a half curtsy and refusing to meet Holt’s eyes. “Do you like it?” Jackson says in a tight voice, obvious in his tone and body language that he liked it, very much so.

Holt falls to his knees. “Very much.” He says breathlessly. “There’s my girl.” 

Jackson blushes, still too nervous to look back at him. “It’s not too bad I guess.” 

Holt shuffles forward on his knees, laying his hands on Jackson’s pale thighs. “You’re beautiful babe. I mean, you always are of course, but now you really look like a girl. My pretty wife.” 

Jackson gasps as Holt ducks his head under his skirt, biting down on his hand to keep from crying out. “Holt, Holt stop, not here-“

Now Holt’s never sucked a dick before but by now Jackson’s done it to him enough times for him to know the basics. Jackson’s already naked underneath so Holt takes a deep breath to gather his nerves.

_ A relationship should be 50/50 _ . He reminds himself.  _ He sucks my dick, I suck his. _

He nods sharply, eyes burning on determination. He  _ was  _ going to do this!

“Uh, Holt?” Jackson says shakily. “Are you… okay down there…?”

“Yes!” Holt says, equally as nervous. “I’m cool!”

“We are literally in a changing room.” Jackson enunciates slowly. “We are going to get kicked out of this store.”

“Don’t care.” Damn it, how does Jackson make it look so easy? And he was so rough all the time, how does Jackson  _ do  _ it-

“If we get kicked out then I can’t buy this pretty skirt.” Jackson says heatedly. “And- and wear it around for the rest of our date.” 

Holt peeks out from underneath Jackson’s skirt. “Wait, really?”

Jackson nods, covering his face with his hands. “I like it.” He admits in a rush of breath. “Do you…?”

“Jackie I’m literally about to suck your dick and you’re asking me if I like it-“

“Everything okay in there?” There’s a knock on the door and both brothers freeze. 

“Yes! Thank you!” Jackson nearly shouts, pushing Holt away. “You-you get out of here and I’ll get dressed, and then I’ll- we’ll-“

Holt presses a heated kiss to the inside of his thigh. “Alright, beautiful.” He says with a laugh. “You better keep your word.” He backs out of the room with a smirk, raising his eyebrows up and down to annoy Jackson on purpose. His heart is hammering in his chest and he can feel the blood rushing through his veins, but he feels utterly ecstatic. Holt’s a little disappointed in himself for chickening out on what would have been his first ever blowjob, but he’ll make it up to Jackson somehow.

It’s not long before Jackson scuffles out behind him, redder than his hair and holding the articles of clothing tight to his chest.

The lady behind the cash register looks them up and down. “Can I help you?”

“I would like to buy these please.” Jackson says in one fast breath, dropping the clothes on the counter and brandishing his wallet like a weapon. 

The cashier snapped her gum again. “So ahead and insert your card.”

Holt pulls him out of the store before the receipt is done printing, finding the nearest bathroom like his life depends on it. He’s sure they get plenty of odd stares but hey, they’re two teenagers on a date. Of course they were going to get frisky in the bathrooms. 

Jackson takes his bags into the stall, nervously glancing at Holt before closing the door. Holt waits eagerly as he watches Jackson strip down, making sure none of his clothes touch the dirty bathroom floor. His original clothes are folded up and placed inconspicuously inside the bag and Holt can’t help but peer through the gap in the door. 

Jackson twists around, watching with a smile as the skirt spins around his legs. So serene and innocent that Holt feels bad for intruding on his personal moment, backing up from the door as quietly as he can.

Jackson loves the skirt. It’s light and freeing around his legs, and the shape formed by the A-line hem fit his thin frame perfectly. The sweater is nice too, the sleeves loose around his arms and flopping around with his movements. The collar is wide enough to show off his delicate collarbones, the hem rubbing against Holt’s marks in a way that made him blush.

When Jackson’s done admiring himself he clears his throat and drops the soft fabric, shuffling closer to the door and pushing it open to face his brother. 

Holt’s face is full of barely contained glee, his eyes darting over Jackson’s body like he doesn’t know where to look first. “You look amazing.” 

“Thank you.” Jackson blushes and curtsies deeply. It’s embarrassing, sure, but he is grateful to Holt for a whole lot of things, so bowing down in some twisted show of devotion is the least he can do.

Holt swallows down his lust. “Let’s get on pretty boy.” He holds his arm out out to Jackson, letting the femme boy take it like a waiting princess.

Jackson takes his arm, interlocking their fingers. “Carry my bags?”

“Of course dear.” Holt says, taking the bags in his free hand.

“My strong man.” Jackson laughs quietly. He’s nervous, nervous and terrified but he has Holt with him. His brother radiates confidence and in his presence Jackson can swallow his fears for just a few minutes more. He presses himself as close to Holt’s side as possible, keeping his eyes low to the ground. Holt talks about nothing, albums he wanted to check out and the intense going ons behind the scenes of some of the local frightclubs, but all Jackson heard was blood rushing in his ears. He’s fine until he catches a glimpse of their reflection in one of those floor to ceiling mirrors. He’s a boy in a dress clinging on his brother's arm. Their taboo must be written all over them, obvious to everyone how twisted they were.

Jackson keeps a firm grip on Holt’s arm with both hands, hiding his face in his shoulder. “Everyone’s looking at me.” He mumbles. “They know, they know, they know-“

“They’re lookin’ at you because you’re fuckin’ hot, and they’re lookin’ at me like they want to throw hands.” Holt narrows his eyes at a particular group of leering onlookers. “C’mon Jackie, let’s get out of here.”

Jackson only nods, tense body relaxing in relief. “Okay.”

Holt wraps his arm around Jackson’s waist, hiding him from the world best he could. “So uh, how’d I do?”

Jackson looks at him in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Holt blushes and runs a hand through his hair. “On our date, I mean.”

“Oh.” Jackson blushes as well. “You did- it was great. Thank you.”

“So is there going to be a second?” Holt asks cautiously.

Jackson snorts. “Holt you’ve had your dick in me, we’re kind of past the dating stage.”

“That doesn’t mean we don’t have to!” Holt says with an embarrassed laugh. “I mean, I wanna take you out Jackie. To the movies and out to dinner and to prom and all.”

It’s too much for Jackson. He stops in his tracks and buries his face in the crook of Holt’s neck, trying to even out his breathing so he doesn’t burst into tears. “Yeah. I want that too.”

Holt smiles widely in glee, nuzzling into the top of Jackson’s head. “Oh and uh, sorry for choking back there. Or not choking, eheh.”

Jackson pulls away, brows furrowed in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Holt glances around, but they’re alone. “About y’know, chickening out in the dressing room. When I was trying to…” he makes a vague blowjob gesture.

“Oh.” Jackson leans back, face still scrunched up. “That’s fine Holt, I don’t mind if you don’t want to do that.”

“Well I just…” Holt scratches the back of his head. “You know I love you, and that means I love your dick too and I don’t want to just ignore it. It doesn’t seem fair.”

Jackson laughs into his sleeve. “Holt you’re overthinking it. You touch me all the time.”

“That’s different.” Holt’s face is burning up. “I’m doing this out of love Jackie. Out of  _ love _ .”

Jackson slowly turns red as well, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. “If you really want to, uh, give me pleasure-“ he mumbles “- I would actually prefer if we just… did it.”

“Did what?” Holt asks dumbly.

Jackson rolls his eyes. “It!”

Realization slowly dawns across Holt’s face. “ _ Ohhh _ .” His hands start to wander, pulling in Jackson by his waist. “Damn Jackie, you really are a freak huh?”

He’s shocked when Jackson bats his hands away. “Not in the skirt.” Jackson admonishes him. “Do you know how much this cost?”

“I have an eye for the finer things in life.” Holt grins wolfishly. Challenge accepted.

He gets the skirt up around Jackson's waist by the time they’re in the car, stroking their cocks together with one hand and the other clamped over Jackson’s mouth to keep him quiet. He would have taken Jackson right there in the backseat, but he wasn’t sleazy enough to bring a condom along on their first date. Jackson was a classy girl after all.

“Whoever cums first has to drive home.” Holt pants in Jackson’s ear.

“ _ Not fairr _ …” Jackson moans out around Holt’s hand. “ _ You’re so meannn… _ ”

—

Jackson drives them home of course. Skirt stain free, if a bit wrinkled. Even though he’s in the passenger's seat, Holt jumps around to his side to open the door for his brother.   
  


“Thank you.” Jackson says with a laugh.

“M’lady.” Holt bows deeply.

“Annddd you ruined it.” Jackson skips over taking his hand, shaking his head in disappointment. “Grab the bags.”

“Aw, baby.” Holt whines. Jackson doesn’t look back and Holt sighs as he grabs their bags out of the back of the car. One with Jackson’s street clothes and one with the secret he had bought. 

It’s only when the trunk slams closed that Holt notices that their mothers car is parked by the curb.

He sucks in air through his teeth. Uh oh.

He jogs to the door, throwing it open and sure enough Jackson is there standing like a deer in the headlights in front of their monstrous mother.

“Hey kids.” Harriet Hyde tips her beer at them. “How was your date?”

Jackson looks at him in fear.

“Oh yeah!” Holt laughs nervously. “Mom knows!”

Jackson’s fear turns indescribable, emotions flirting across his face a mile a second.

“You didn’t tell him.” Harriet shakes her head. “See, this is why we wanted to talk to you at the same time.”

“What the fuck was I supposed to say, Mom!” Holt throws his arms in the air. “Hey Jackson! Love you! Mom’s okay with us fucking!”

“Oh my god.” Jackson goes to stand in the corner facing the wall.

“Oh Jackson get over here.” Harriet gestures for him. “We’re happy for you. Really.”

Jackson slinks back over, pulling down the hem of his sweater as if that would cover his sins. “Sorry.” 

“Aw, don't apologize now.” Harriet lays a hand on each of their shoulders. “You two need each other, that’s why you were born together. Only natural you’d come back to each other.”

Jackson’s red faced, shaking with nerves. “It’s really okay?” He says quietly. “You’re not mad?”

Harriet pulls them both in for a hug. “Oh you kids. Of course not, me and your other mother both now.” When she pulls back she has a serious look on her face. “You two be happy okay? That's all we want for you.”

Jackson only nods. Holt reaches for his hand hesitantly, and Jackson takes his pinky in his own.

Harriet sighs. “Y’know, I never thought I’d be givin’ the shovel talk to my own kids.”

Both boys laugh at that, Jackson finally cracking a smile. 

“Holt!” Harriet stands up straight as a drill sergeant, spitting out her words violently. “You treat your brother right y’hear?! He’s a squishy little human! You gotta watch yourself with ya’ powers an’ make sure you don’t hurt ‘im too bad! I don’t want anything permanent, alright!?”

“Yessir!” Holt salutes.

“Jackson!” Harriet turns to her softer son. “Keep Holt in line!”

“Wha- hey!” Holt complains over Jackson’s thin laughter. “Why doesn’t he get yelled at?”

“You’re the flight risk here Holt.” Harriet shakes her head. “Honestly I’m just happy I don’t have to worry about you getting some poor monster pregnant.”

“Oh, I’m certainly trying.” Holt says before he can stop himself.

Jackson punches him in the shoulder. “Shut the fuck- I’m going to fucking kill you-“

Harriet rolls her eyes and chugs the rest of her beer, crushing it against the table. “Ah, young love.” She says sarcastically. “You kids have fun!”

“Why don’t you go down to the store or something so we can?” Holt shoots back. It’s definitely worth Jackson pulling him away by the earlobe. “Ow ow ow  _ ow _ -“

Jackson only lets go when they're in their room again. “Mom fucking knows?!”

Holt just shrugs. “Obviously!”

“Oh my god.” Jackson covers his face in his hands, pacing around the room. “Does- does anyone else know?”

Holt sucks in air through his teeth. “ _ Welllllll _ …”

“Oh my god.” Jackson says again. “Who. Tell me.”

Holt takes a breath. “Heath found out on accident.”

“You told fucking  _ Heath _ ?!” Jackson sputters, turning on him. 

“It was an accident!” Holt pleads. “He was like ‘oh hoho! I know your secret!’ and I was like ‘okay cool nice to have your support dude it means a lot’!”

“Fucking  _ Heath _ !” Jackson repeats himself. 

“He’s cool with it!” 

“Oh my  _ goddd _ .” Jackson rubs at his face. “Okay. Okay, who else.”

“You’re not going to like this one.” Holt warns him.

“I already don’t like it.”

“So uh, Deuce-“

“Fucking  _ DEUCE _ ?” Jackson looks at him in betrayal.

“I didn’t tell him anything! He figured it out on his own!” Holt feels overwhelmed with guilt. “I wanted to tell you I  _ did- _ but everything kept on happening and and we were fighting-“

“We weren’t fighting. It was an argument.”

”That’s the same thing!” 

  
Jackson sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m just…”

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you as soon as possible.” Holt would beg for forgiveness if he had too. “I didn’t want to stress you out any more then you already were.”

The room is silent for a moment while Jackson breathes in deeply, hiding his face. “You said… you said they were fine with it? Both of them?”

Holt blinks. “Well, yeah. Heath thinks you’re kinda cute.” Jackson chokes on his own saliva. “I mean he won’t admit it but I can tell.”

“Shut up.” That manages to draw a small laugh out of him. 

“I’m serious!” Holt holds back his own laughter. “I mean, two bros that used to be the same perosn is one thing but an incestuous throuple might be a little too much.” 

Jackson finally breaks, unable to stop himself from laughing. “You’re terrible.”

“Not my fault you’re so irresistible.” Holt shakes his head and tweaks Jackson’s nose. “....we good?

Jackson sighs, brushing his bangs out of his face. “You can’t keep stuff like that from me Holt. Whether it will stress me out or not, I deserve to know.”

“Of course. No more secrets, here on out.” Holt takes Jackson’s hands in his, bringing them to his mouth for a quick kiss. “I used to jerk off with your underwear.” 

“Some secrets.” Jackson shakes his head. 

“I sniff your pillow.”

“I can’t stand you.”

“Gimmie a kiss Jackie.” Holt dives for his mouth, bobbing and weaving as Jackson dodges him. “Don’t act like you’re not a freak too. I’m definitely gonna watch you play with those toys baby-“

“Stop it!” Jackson says, playfully batting him away. “You perv.”

“ _ I loveee you~ _ ” Holt rubs his face against Jacksons, peppering kisses on his cheek. “Nasty boy.”

Jackson finally kisses him back, sweet and soft. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m  _ your  _ terrible.” Holt playfully bites at his nose. “Fuck, have you heard moms car leave yet? I wanna get under that skirt again-“

Jackson steps back, wringing his hands. “I actually, um, wanted to try something.”

Holt raises an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Not sex.”

He lowers his eyebrow. “Oh.”

Jackson nudges him. “Don’t sound so disappointed.” He averts his gaze down to the floor, face going red. “It’s… kinda silly. It’s just an idea too, so don’t feel like you have to or anything.”

Holt’s attention has definitely peaked. “Are we gettin’ married right now?”

“No. Not yet.” Jackson gives an embarrassed smile.

Holt perks up like a puppy. “Yet? So it’s an option?” 

Jackson ignores him. “Can you go get my bags?”

“Of course!” Holt says happily, kissing Jackson on the cheek quickly before retrieving their bags. Jackson gratefully takes them, dropping the one with his street clothes and taking the bag containing whatever secret present he had bought.

Jackson clears his throat nervously. “I know you’re nervous about leaving marks on me…” he pulls out a roll of fabric and spreads it out on their bed, exposing a display of bright silver tools. “So I thought maybe you would feel better if I put some on you too.”

Holt looks down at the display of piercing tools, needles and clamps that they're both already familiar with.

“It’s- it’s stupid.” Jackson stammers. “I just…”

“I have never been more down for anything in my goddamn life.” Holt breathes. “Fuck yeah. Let’s do it.”

The corner of Jackson’s lip twitches. “Okay.” Jackson sits down at the foot of the bed and smoothes out his skirt. “Come here.”

Holt drops to his knees and scuffles forward, resting cautiously on Jackson’s thigh. Jackson caresses his face with his hand, a soft smile gracing his features. Holt leans after his hand when he pulls away and his eyes follow them as he reaches for the case.

Jackson pulls on a pair of latex gloves, snapping them in satisfaction. He pulls out an instrument from the case. It looks like a pair of scissors, with holes on the end instead of blades. It’s meant to hold something in place rather than cut flesh. His other hand delicately picks a hollow metal needle. “Can you sterilize this for me?”

Holt gulps but obliges him, picking the needle up between two red hot fingers. Once Jackson deems it clean he nods and Holt feels a rush of satisfaction at pleasing him. “Stick your tongue out.”

Holt obeys instantly, dark purple tongue poking out between his lips. “Like thith?”

“Perfect.” Jackson clamps Holt’s tongue in the metal clasps and lines up the needle. “Deep breath.” Holt closes his eyes as the needle pierces his tongue, hissing in pain as the instrument slices through the muscle. Jackson slides a metal stud into the needle and pulls away and the pain fades almost immediately. “How does that feel?”

Holt swallows, rehydrating his dry tongue. His new piercing clacks against his teeth, sending small shivers of pain through his body. “Good.” He says hoarsely. 

“Do you think you can handle another?” Jackson says softly.

Holt just nods, having lost the ability to talk. 

Jackson wipes down his instruments with an alcohol wipe and picks out a new needle. “Sterilize.”

He’s not asking. “Jackson I think I like this side of you.” Holt says in a rough voice, pinching the needle between sizzling fingers. His cock is hard between his legs, throbbing in the confinement of his pants. “Can I…?”

“You can touch yourself after this one.” Jackson tsks. “I don't want you to mess it up.”

“Course, course baby.” Holt doesn’t listen, rocking his hips against Jackson’s leg. Humping him like a dog. It’s embarrassing and Holt feels his face heating up. He can only imagine what he looks like right now, eyes lidded with his tongue sticking out as he ruts against his brother's shin.

He’s starting to understand this humiliation kink Jackson has.

“Tilt your head back now.” 

Hold obeys him and Jackson carefully inserts the clamps into his nose, marking his intended spot with a marker. “Another deep breath for me.”

This one doesn’t hurt as much, all thin cartilage instead of thick muscle. The piercing is screwed in and Jackson pulls away, leaving Holt’s face pleasantly throbbing in pain. 

“More?”

“Yes, please.”

Jackson holds the fleshy lobe of his ear between his fingers, squeezing it softly. “Two more, and then we’re done.”

Holt bristles. “I can handle more.”

“I know you can. But I’m only going to give you four.” Jackson’s voice isn’t stern or demanding, but Holt knows there’s no room for debate. “Four marks on me, four marks on you.”

“Anything you say baby.” Holt keeps his focus on keeping his breath steady, slowly rolling his hips against Jackson’s unyielding leg. He had permission to touch himself now, but the pleasurable pain of denial as Jackson worked on him was better somehow. 

His ears are done one after the other, so quick he barely feels it. “There you go. How do you feel?”

“Feel like I’m about to cum in my pants.” Holt laughs, a little self consciously. “Fuck, Jackson.” 

Jackson presses his leg into Holt’s aching cock. “Go ahead.”

Holt’s breath catches in his throat. Jackson didn't really mean for him to…

Jackson looks down at him with an eyebrow raised. Holt swallows his pride and grabs onto his leg, rutting against it in earnest now. 

“There you go.” Jackson coos at him. “You did so good. So good for me Holt.” He strokes Holt’s hair as his brother humps against him desperately. “Thank you for letting me claim you, love.”

“Jackson.” Holt hisses through his teeth. His eyes are clenched shut as he rides out the pleasure. He never lasts long when Jackson uses all this praise. He’s even starting to look forward to it, feeling like maybe he does deserve all this. 

“You look so nice with my jewelry on you.” Jackson just barely touches his ear. “Like a collar on a dog.” 

“Fuck yes.” Holt pants. “Love it, baby. ‘M yours.” It’s hard to get any real words out, lost somewhere in the clouds of pleasure. “Jackson- I’m gonna-.”

“Cum for me, Hy.” Jackson says sweetly. Holt moans quietly at the nickname that Jackson rarely used. “Be good for me.”

How can Holt say no to that? His thrusts grow faster and less even, face pressed into the soft fabric of Jackson’s skirt. His cock is trapped in his jeans, only unbearable friction from the harsh denim. He’s almost overwhelmed by sheer embarrassment of the situation but Jackson’s gentle praises urge him on, over the edge. He cums with a strangled cry, slowly rocking his hips through the aftershocks to draw out his orgasm as long as possible. He’s sticky and sweaty and gross, but he feels great.

“Did I do good?” Holt asks with blearily vision. 

Jackson takes his face in his hands. “Lay with me.”

Holt follows him as usual, slinking up on the bed and lying face to face next to him. Jackson curls up into his body, tracing his fingers across Holt’s new piercings.

“I can’t believe you let me do that.” Jackson admits, wide eyed.

“Are you kidding? That was cool as hell.” Holt runs his tongue across his teeth again, admiring the sensation of the ball against his teeth. “You’re so hot on top too.”

Jackson flushes. “It’s nice to boss you around and have you listen for once.”

“As long as you touch my dick I’ll do anything you say baby.” Holt laughs. 

Jackson huffs at him. “What about getting your homework done?”

Holt holds a hand up to his chin in thought. “I mean, I’d certainly be more enthusiastic if I had a pretty thing on my lap…” His hand slides up Jackson’s thigh, exposing more of his skin. “Now I don’t know about you, but I need these pants off now.”

“Incorrigible.” Jackson shakes his head but turns over onto his stomach, letting Holt push the skirt up to expose his ass.

Holt only snickers, kissing Jackson between the shoulder blades. “Y’know I actually looked that word up.”

“And?” Jackson looks back at him, eyebrow raised.

“I don’t agree 100%.” Holt kisses him again, pressing their lips together softly. “I’d say you’ve improved me.”

Jackson blushes, turning away back to the bed. “Well if you put it like  _ that _ …”

Holt hums. “I am going to cum on that pretty skirt though. Revenge motherfucker.”

“Not on the skirt! Holt,  _ not on the skirt-!” _

—

The entrance to Monster High had never seemed so daunting before. Jackson has Holt’s hand in a vice grip as they stand outside, both relying on each other for support.

For some reason they had agreed that coming out at the biggest dance of the school year would be a good idea. Music blasted through the night and Jackson winced at the noise, but he’s easily soothed by Holt’s warm touch as his brother places his hand on his cheek.

“You ready?” Holt looks him in the eyes. “We don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.” Jackson nods, voice tight with nerves. “It’s time. For both you and me.”

Holt brings their joined hands to his mouth for a kiss. “You look great.” 

Jackson laughs quietly at that, face flushing with pink. Not a skirt, not yet, but his shirt was definitely more blouselike than his usual button downs. “You too. You’re really healing up nicely.” He would much rather Holt  _ out  _ of the tux, but seeing him in formal clothes did make Jacksons stomach flip pleasantly.

Holt puffs up in pride. The piercings Jackson had adorned him with were truly lovely, gems studded with orange and gold. They must have cost a fortune but Jackson remained tight lipped about the price. “Hey Jackson.”

“What?” Jackson looks over at him and Holt takes in his face, full of nervous excitement.

“I love you baby.”

Jackson’s face breaks out in a smile. “I love you too.” He squeezes their hands again, and both brothers head inside.

Jackson is filled with nerves almost instantly, forcing his eyes to the ground. He can hear his heart hammering in his ears and he presses himself closer to Holt’s side for support. The dance has everyone busy, bustling around with decorations or punch that just might be blood, but he can still make out people calling their names.

_ No ones going to laugh at me. No ones going to attack me.  _ Jackson reminds himself, exhaling slowly.  _ Holt’s here.  _

“I’m right here babe.” Holt seems to read his mind. He rubs his thumb across the back of Jackson’s hand, grounding him. “The ghouls are probably in the creepateria, you wanna go see ‘em?”

Jackson takes a deep breath. Better do it quickly, like taking off a bandage. “Yeah. Yeah let’s go.”

Holt kisses him then, just on the temple but it’s enough to send Jackson's head spinning. He giggles like a schoolgirl, turning bright red. 

_ My brother just kissed me! In front of all our peers! _

It’s like the final nail on the coffin. He has  _ Holt _ . The most popular monster, the rockstar of the school. His brother, other half, lover, was willing to do this with him. Put up with his lame nerdy normie self up to this, because he loves him. 

He feels like the prettiest girl in the room.

“Haha.” Jackson laughs, almost tipsy on the lights and music. “Think we’ll win prom king and queen?”

Holt whistles lowly. “That’d be a first.” He has an eye out for the edges of the crowd, anyone that might want to make themselves a problem. “You’d deserve it though.”

Jackson squeezes Holt’s hand tighter. “I think I see Heath.”

Heath is, indeed, trying to chug the punch bowl. Trying at least, Abbey has his collar firmly in her ice cold grip. Clawd and Deuce are cheering him on with Clawdeen scolding her brother and Cleo shaking her head in disgust. Frankie and Draculaura hide their laughter behind their hands, and Lagoona and Gil just look on at the young fire elemental making a fool out of himself. Ghoulia is the first to notice the brothers walking up to them, and she gives them a big toothy smile and two rotten thumbs up.

“Whoa whoa  _ whoa  _ now.” Holt laughs loudly, drawing the attention of all their friends. “I see you’ve already gotten the party started without us!”

Jackson’s so nervous he feels like he might be sick, but he stands his ground. “S-sorry we’re late!”

Heath in particular looks from their faces to their joined hands, and begins punching Deuce in the arm indelicately. 

“Hey guys.” Deuce says, coolly. “Glad you could make it!”

“Yeah!” Heath says, not as coolly. “Because us, your friends, are happy to see you. And support you with anything you might want to tell us.”

Deuce elbows him in the stomach.

“Haha, okay so…” Holt scratches the back of his head with his free hand. “I’m sure some of you are wondering just exactly what’s been going on with me and Jackson lately.” That grabs the attention of everyone, gathering closer together to listen. “And I have to say, first things first; I am so  _ not _ under the influence of any kind of spell, hex, love potion-“

“Oh my ghoul!” Draculaura squeals in excitement. “It’s happening!”

“ _ Shhhh _ !” The other ghouls shush her, hands flapping excitedly. They’re whispering amongst each other like they’re backstage at a concert, excitement rolling off them in waves.

Holt blinks. “As I was saying…. me ‘n Jackson are like. Dating.”

It’s like he pulled the trigger on an exploding keg of powder. The girls erupt, rushing over them.

“Oh. Em. Gee. I  _ knew  _ it!”

“You two are  _ sooo _ cute! All matching in your outfits-“

“Holt, do you have new piercings?”

“Jackson I  _ love  _ your shirt! Where did you get it!”

Jackson buries his face in Holt’s shoulder in embarrassment, much to the delight of their audience.

Draculaura swoons. “It’s so romantic… torn apart from one another, only to come back together…”

Deuce claps a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, surprising him. “Dude. We’re all like, happy for you.”

Jackson’s eyes are wet. “Really…? None of you are upset? Disgusted?”

“Deuce squeezes his shoulder lightly. “Course not dude. I mean you guys are still technically the same person, just in two bodies yo. That’s like, major soulmate romantic shit.”

Jackson looks out at the faces of his friends, the ones he had been so scared of, and for once he feels welcomed. 

Ey, no touchy.” Holt brushes Deuces hand away. “My normie. Get your own.”

Deuce backs away with a laugh, arms held out in surrender. “Hey now, don’t go all fireball on me man.”

Holt wraps Jackson up in his arms, holding the human boy close to his chest. “My Jackie. Mine.” He punctuates his sentence with a kiss to Jackson’s temple, causing his brother to blush uncontrollably.

The sound of a trio of heels clacking against the floor draws their attention. “Hey Jackson. Hothead.”

“Oh, hi Torelai! Meowlody, Purrsephone.” Jackson says, ignoring the groans from the rest of his friends. His smile slips when he sees who they have dragging behind them. 

Torelai kicks Manny to the ground. “Apologize.”

Manny grunts. “Jackson. I would like to sincerely apologize for my behavior-“

Torelai twists his arm behind his back. “Say it like you  _ mean it _ .”

“ _ Ow ow-  _ I’m a big bully that takes my personal problems out on smaller people because I’m a coward.” Torelai twists his arm again. “Also my dick is small.”

“There. Now was that so hard?” Torelai purrs in contentment, shooing Manny off. “Run away now.” Manny hustles away in shame, tail literally tucked between his legs. Torelai saunters up to Jackson’s side and places a hand on his shoulder, her hellcats following in her wake. “Don't say I never did anything for you now.”

Jackson lays his hand over hers, squeezing it softly. “Thanks Torelai. I mean it.”

Torelai clears her throat and straightens herself out, her bit of weakness done for the day. “Tell your loser friends to stop hogging the dancefloor.”

“I’ll be sure to.” Jackson laughs. “Have fun!”

Torelai saunters off again, but the twins wave Jackson goodbye. Holt wraps his arm around him again. “Your friends are so weird.” He shakes his head in disbelief.

Jackson’s smiling for real now, glowing brightly even amongst all the lights on the dance floor. “I feel like I’m going to faint.” He laughs breathlessly. “Can you…?”

“Oh yeah, yeah sure.” Holt waves at their group of friends, all talking amongst themselves now. “Me and Jackson are gonna go neck in a corner! Don’t expect us!”

They all laugh, but it’s all friendly. Teasing. Not making fun of him. Jackson’s head is swimming as Holt effortlessly navigates through the crowds of students.

He finds them a quiet little alcove, dark with shadow and all on their own. “See? Holt says quietly. They’re your friends too.”

Jackson laughs shakily. He hasn’t let go of Holt’s hand all night. “Our heart is beating so fast.”

Holt swallows down the sudden knot in his throat. It was probably just a slip of the tongue, Jackson didn’t even realize he’d said it but… “I like that.” He whispers hoarsely. “Our heart.”

A shy smile stretches across Jacksons red face. “Well. Yours Is mine and mine is yours. Or something.”

Holt blushes deeply, purple to the tips of his ears. “I’m

happy to be a part of you again.” He whispers hoarsely. “I wasn’t made to be on my own.”

Jackson kisses him deeply, stealing both their breath away. “You’re my other half.”.

“Your better half you mean?”

“Better looking, maybe.” Jackson laughs quietly. “Remember that time, you said you’d give me a ring?”

Holt’s nerves are set alight. “Yeah. Yeah I remember.”

“Well…” Jackson shuffles with his suit pocket, and Holt’s eyes widen at the black band. “It’s made of obsidian. Essentially volcanic glass, it should withstand your heat as long as you don’t focus it on your fingers to much-“

Holt grabs his face in his hands, cutting him off with a deep kiss. “I love you. I’ll never say it enough. You’re perfect, wonderful-“ He reaches for the ring in Jackson’s hand, but Jackson closes his fingers.

“Hey now.” He laughs nervously. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours?”

Jackson holds his left hand out expectantly. Holt takes it in his like it’s made of glass, kissing the back of his hand reverently before wrapping his thumb and index fingers around Jackson's ring, covering the base completely.

He makes it as quick and painless as he can, burning the skin deep without drawing blood. Jackson stiffins at the smell of burning, but quickly relaxes into the now-familiar pain.

He slips the black ring onto Holt’s finger as he admires his new burn, a red ring permanently seared into his skin. Holt looks at his own, vowing to himself to never take it off. 

“So… what does this mean?” Holt asks, the question weighing heavily in the air between them.

Jackson takes his hand, his skin warm against the cool metal of Holt’s band. “I could say something really cheesy right now.”

“As if this wasn’t already.” Holt teases him.

“I don’t know. It just makes sense, doesn’t it?” Jackson leans forward, resting on Holt’s chest.

Holt sways back and forth with him, one hand on his waist with their joined hands out in front. “Our first dance.”

Jackson hums tunelessly, following the beat of Holt’s-  _ their  _ heartbeat. “We should be heading back soon.” He sighs, without making any actual move to do so.

Holt snickers. “Don’t want people getting any ideas now.” Jackson makes a noise of agreement, but still doesn’t move. 

“Maybe just… a bit longer.” He breathes into Holt’s chest.

Holt leads them as they dance, the only sound between them muffled music from the gymnasium and two hearts bearing in sync- indistinguishable from each other and forming a strong single heartbeat. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> starts crying 
> 
> thank u to everyone who’s read this story ;-;-; I know monster high is like a dead fandom and jekyde is such a rarepair so I wasn’t expecting much, but you all have made me so happy ;-; Thai was supposed to be a one shot with the first chapter but looks what it’s grown into !!! I love these characters sm..... I’ll probably write more fics about them after giving my brain a time to rest lol, I got this chapter done in liek two days 💕 thank you for reading..... 
> 
> the artwork is by my good friend toddy!!! I low her I own her the world for jackie skirt love 
> 
> stay gay my friends


End file.
